Daughter of the King

the death of the maker

A long whimper caught my ear from the other room. I walked into the kitchen to see what my mother was so upset about. She stood starring at the coffee maker with terror in her eyes. "Becca, check to see if there is any water in it," I did so. Alas, the machine was turned on, coffee ground were present in the filter cone, and the sufficient amount of water was in it; still it wasn't working. Mom shook it and tried to revive it back to life, but to no avail.
Our little coffee maker died yesterday.
My Father entered the scene with a forlorn look of despair. No coffee. He began to mutter about how sick he was of everything breaking around here. It didn't matter what we did, there would be no coffee in the Long house.
I offered to pay 33% of the cost to replace it. My father found that a very attractive offer. He plans on buying a new on in the near future. I figure, the nearer the better.
Anyways this morning the coffee maker was still dead. Imagine that. So I had to go out and buy some coffee from a local gas station. I would have liked to get it from Panera, because I think they sell the best black coffee, but it's too far a drive for such a small matter.

On a more encouraging note, my mom is healing. She had a hernia in her stomach. Essentially a bit of her stomach was caught in her esophagus. This little medical missionary figured it out, and fixed by doing some intense massaging techniques. The point is, though her stomach is still really bruised from the esophagus clamping down on it, she is getting progressively better, and everything should be ok in about a day. Praise be to God. He has heard our many prayers and answered them in His good time.

Well on this day I have much to accomplish for the Kingdom.

posted by Becca @ 11:31 AM