A Cracked Coffee Pot, a Pool Baptism, and a $50 Bill
How God Brews Miracles with Broken Things
It’s well known in Navy tradition that you don’t wash the inside of a Chief Petty Officer’s coffee mug. Dark stains are a sign of a seasoned cup and a point of pride among the senior enlisted ranks.
We’ve developed a few traditions in our church’s Saturday morning men’s group too.
First, we exercise. Thirty minutes of physical training prepares us for thirty minutes of Bible study. And after every workout, there’s always a pot of coffee waiting.
One weekend I couldn’t be there, so I let a friend borrow my coffee urn so he could handle the weekly brew. When I got it back two weeks later, something terrible had happened.
I pumped the handle and hot coffee sprayed everywhere. Then it started leaking from the bottom.
What happened?
He washed the coffee pot.
To be fair, I always cleaned it. But my friend tried to disassemble this thing to get it in pristine condition. He accidentally damaged the liner inside the urn and rendered it useless.
Never wash a Chief’s coffee pot.
It wasn’t a big deal. We laughed about it and poked fun at each other, as guys do.
I decided to splurge on the replacement. I bought a massive, rugged Stanley coffee container that would increase our coffee capacity.
More coffee means more men reached.
We often offer coffee to people passing through the park during our workouts. Sometimes those conversations turn into opportunities to share the gospel.
The Stanley cost me $50.
The first time I brought it to the park, my friend felt a little guilty about breaking the old one. My teasing probably didn’t help. But I told him, “Think of how many people we can reach with the gospel through this $50 coffee pot.”
He smiled and replied, “You know, man, that $50 will probably come back to you one day. You’ll probably find it lying on the ground somewhere.”
We laughed and moved on.
A few months later, that same friend called me and said he wanted to get baptized, and he wanted me to do it.
It would be my first time baptizing someone—a major step in my calling to ministry.
We met at my neighborhood pool. Family and friends gathered around. Afterward, we swam, talked, and celebrated. One of the men there was a close friend who is not yet a believer. He was able to witness the baptism and experience Christian fellowship in a relaxed, joyful setting.
As we were leaving, that non-believing friend suddenly stopped and pointed at the ground.
“Hey, look at this.”
He bent down and picked up a $50 bill.
I almost fell over. Immediately, I thought about the conversation from months earlier.
I ran over to my newly baptized friend and showed him the money. We just stood there for a moment, absolutely amazed.
Not because of the cash. Because of God’s timing. Because a miracle passed through the hands of man who does not yet believe, but who I am praying for.
I took the $50 home and framed it alongside a race bib from an event sponsored by the Suffer Up Podcast—the podcast my baptized friend is part of. Looking back, that race was one of the first links in a chain of events that eventually led to his baptism. He took a leap of faith hosting the event, and it created a ripple effect of gospel impact.
Maybe stories like this are hard for you to believe.
Sometimes they’re hard for me to believe, too.
To be clear: I’m not saying God will put a $50 bill in your path if you buy a coffee pot and start a Bible study. This isn’t a prosperity gospel. That’s not the point.
The point is that God is doing so much more than we can see.
Maybe God is brewing up something in your life right now, and you just need to take the next step of faith.
Get in the pool.
Spend the $50.
Start the Bible study.
Invite the friend.
Join the group.
Have the conversation.
Take the step.
He does his best work with broken things.
Even coffee pots.
And old salty Navy Chiefs.
The Suffer Up Podcast releases a new episode each Monday on all platforms.
I got baptized while we were stationed in Saudi Arabia (where practicing Christianity was illegal). We held services in the rec center, so no classic pool was available, and it was the 90's so the idea of a mobile baptismal dunk tank was a thing yet.
But thankfully our compound had an olympic size swimming pool ;)
This is awesome man…