I was in Orlando at a conference with my hottie hubby. For two mornings, Paul had coffee waiting for me when I woke. My heart was full. The gesture spoke love to me. To this java loving, non-morning person, it really was a big deal. I felt cherished and cared for.

I know. It’s just coffee. You have to know me to get it.

But the next morning when I woke, my hubby was sipping his coffee and reading scripture and there was no mug for me. I asked if he brought me coffee. He had not. I knew he wanted to get a good workout in at the fitness center before the morning session, and I knew the “coffee bar” downstairs was nothing but a painfully slow process of brewing instant Nestea. Just arriving at the front of the line was something to be proudly checked-off the to-do list.

Regardless, I instantly felt like a wounded animal. Was he trying to spite me? Was he mad at me? Was he withdrawing his love? Didn’t he realize how much his delivery of my coffee meant to me? (Yes, I realize how trivial this all sounds, but I have a point. Stick with me.) In a miserable attempt to help him understand, I began asking questions and making declarations. I was blowing it way out of proportion and making matters worse. Not only did I feel hurt, but I had now caused hurt. The poor man just wanted to workout.

Numerous times over the previous two days, I had thought about how awesome it was to wake to that hot coffee (albeit instant and artificial). The simple gesture made me feel all warm and mushy inside. But I didn’t tell him…and I didn’t thank him.

To Paul, that morning’s outburst was about coffee…and maybe my HUGE overreaction to the absence of coffee, which I immediately and profusely apologized for when he returned from his workout. To me, however, it was about love. I hadn’t communicated, and he had no way of knowing.

If we don’t communicate and thank those who love us, how will they know we have experienced their love? How often has someone in your life fallen into a pot of hot water without warning? We love and are loved so differently. Somehow, those coffee grounds sent a whole lotta love. My husband had no idea. For now on, if he brings me coffee, which I truly do not deserve, I will still feel the love, but it will come with a price.

Who do you need to thank? Who do you need to keep out of unexpected hot water?