Snow whirling and frigid wind blowing at my exposed face, the walk on the frozen cement sidewalk is Purgatory. I step inside the local coffee shop downtown, and I have reached heaven. Completing the Trinity, the barista is God, the steam billowing off the newly brewed cup of coffee is the Holy Spirit, and the aroma from the freshly ground coffee beans is Jesus. A devout member, worshiping every morning, I hail the coffee pot. The coffee itself is the Bible, wholesome and infallible. Remaining pure, coffee is a divine luxury. Scripture is unmarred by artificial substances; sugar and cream are the temptations of the devil. I firmly reject all other beverages, and I refuse to worship false idols; tea is the labor of Satan, and hot chocolate is the actions of demons. Coffee, our spiritual drink, was inspired by the Holy Spirit, brought to life by Jesus, and given to us from God above. Its hot and holy water cleanses me, the beans preach to me the good news, and the soulful swigs absolve me of my sins. It surges through my body and wraps around my soul. I absorb all of the riches coffee has to offer as I savor the java: hot on my tongue, rushing down my throat, and snuggling, warm in my belly. Wispy puffs of steam kiss me gently on the cheek, and I inhale the comforting aromas that dance under my nose as a hot cup is lifted to my face. Cozy thoughts fill my head as angels take me on dream vacations to exotic locations. Brought back to Earth, my thirst is quenched and my life, complete.