Dad’s Mug

I have more coffee mugs than anyone needs. It is actually embarrassing the number of coffee mugs I have acquired over the years. Most of them have a specific memory attached to them. Whether a mug was a souvenir from vacation or a gift from a birthday or anniversary, almost every mug I have brings back fond memories.

The mug pictured above is not my coffee mug. It is dad’s mug. It is one that he either brought with him when he came to visit or one he bought to keep at our house for his visits. Either way, it is his mug. He had a particular style coffee mug that he really liked, and he did not use any other kind. Why? Because Dad had quirks like we all do. This mug was the only one he used when he visited. It was so special that it was never kept in the same cabinet as the other mugs. It actually had its own special spot so he could go get it out for his visits.

Yesterday was a hard day. I missed Dad terribly. I was thinking about all the things that Dad and I had done together, but I was also thinking of the things that we will never do. I missed him so terribly, and oddly enough, I missed his hands the most. Until Dad had a stroke that affected his vision, he was a man who worked with his hands. I have many memories of watching Dad craft things with his hands. Never too far from his workspace was a cup of coffee.

So, I walked over to the special place, took down Dad’s mug, and I enjoyed a cup of French Roast in his honor and memory. I drank from Dad’s mug in the confidence of Christ’s coming and in the hope of the New Heaven and New Earth. I drank a cup of coffee in Dad’s mug and reflected on Jesus’ words to John the Apostle, “Surely, I am coming soon.” And I joined John in saying, “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!”