“My strength returns to me with my cup of coffee and the reading of the psalms. ”

“Coffee isn't my cup of tea.”

“Wait!"What?" I lowered my cup hastily, wondering if maybe there was a stray hair, or worse, a newly boiled bug inside my cup.You got to smell it first. It's the proper way to cup coffee."Cup coffee?"Taste it."What? Are you the coffee police or something?”

“Fueled by my inspiration, I ran across the room to steal the cup of coffee the bookshelf had taken prisoner. Lapping the black watery brew like a hyena, I tossed the empty cup aside. I then returned to the chair to continue my divine act of creation. Hot blood swished in my head as my mighty pen stole across the page.”

“Reading is my coffee!”

“The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song. (Psalm 28:7 NIV)”