Liturgies and Libations | Maddie Mislock ‘25
I never used to consider myself a morning person, especially in high school when waking up meant sore muscles begging me to stay in bed just a little longer and groggy conversations in the kitchen while I cradled my coffee. Mornings were not something I looked forward to. Perhaps they still aren’t. I need my half hour to lie in bed, my hour before I’m able to string sentences together, my morning to myself (whenever possible).
Yet I savor the act of cooking a hearty and nourishing breakfast. I relish sitting on the porch with my Bible open and a small candle flickering beside me. My favorite time to be in my house is when it’s quiet, which is usually in the mornings. The rituals between waking and starting the day’s work that were once a bother are now a buoy.
My routine hasn’t changed all that much over the years—breakfast, Bible, brushing my teeth. There has been one major shift: I no longer consume caffeine (a fact I sometimes wonder at, as someone who used to consume pitchers of coffee daily—yes, pitchers). One might think that removing a source of joy and comfort would be detrimental. However, cutting coffee was a first step on my healing journey.
Not only was my extreme dependence on caffeine replacing my dependence on the Lord, but it was wreaking havoc on my body. What seemed an insignificant “one more serving” was actually an insatiable thirst for pleasure.
Though I don’t constantly think about coffee anymore, there are other things that can try to take its place. I’m definitely a beverage person and looking forward to a kombucha or tea can help get me through a hard day. The times I savor a beverage are the times I take a pause—or close—to my work. It’s not just the drink, it’s the ritual.
It may seem a simple thing, because it is. It’s one glass. It’s one moment to slow down and breathe, to taste and see that the Lord is good. Sipping on a beverage is when calm seems instinctual. But these should not be the only moments in a day that I slow down. A fun drink is surely not meant to be my ultimate source of joy.
My rhythms of work, play, and sleep can quickly become askew. Even though my routines around starting (and closing) the day help ground how I allot my time and bring some disorder into order, structure and consistency are not meant to be perfectly attainable or satisfying.
Peace can permeate my days, if I invite it to. But it is not through what I drink or how much time I spend in bed. How we live shapes what we love, but the opposite is true too. There is a prayer I return to often, a lifeline of sorts, that offers this encouragement: [The Lord’s] rest is not only meant to be lived and loved in leisure, but in the midst of labor too.
Psalm 34:8 (ESV).
Cole Jones, Holy Grounds, CoJo Studio, 2022.