Hey, I haven’t written about my dad yet. He’s 73. Still pastors a church in a foreign language, and works daily doing construction for our church’s camp. He had bypass surgery last year, and has been…well….shall we say, limp ever since. He goes to camp to work, and really does amazing things. He cuts down the trees, cuts them into boards, and planes them into lumber, then uses the lumber for the cabins.

But lately, he comes home too tired to shower or eat, and just collapses on the couch until late, then cleans up and drags himself off to bed. That is until the other day, when my mom started giving him healthy coffee. I was over at their house the first time he came home after drinking the coffee. It was an even more dramatic change than my mom. He climbed out of his little pickup with his back straight, his head held high, his eyes bright, and a spring in his step.

I went off to do some errands, and stopped by on my way home. They were baking bread together. Mom was forming rolls, and dad was greasing the pans. I could hear their happy chatter before I even opened the door.

A couple of days later he was at my house to do all my little errands I had been waiting forever for. He put together a kitchen shelf, and rewired a light in the bedroom, then went racing out the door to teach a Bible study.

Powerful stuff, that healthy coffee. I’m off to make myself a cup.