I was just going to rush over to Starbucks this morning (since I’m out of coffee in my dorm and have a gift card) then hurry over to the library. But then I stepped outside and saw that it was snowing. And I decided to see it as beautiful, since the wind isn’t blowing super hard, and the flakes were coming down lightly. (remember, I’m not complaining anymore, so this is pretty much my only option)
Then, when I walked into Starbucks, they were playing The Lumineers, and there were lots of tables open. And I had been wanting to blog, so I sat here, by the window.
It was like they invited me in, specifically me, to drink coffee and share words with you.
It’s moments like these — typing at this table by the window with my liquid caffeine nearby and acoustic music playing while the snow drifts down outside — where I take a picture in my mind. (and, let’s be honest, sometimes it ends up on Instagram) It’s peaceful even though the baristas are flying trying to keep up with the line of people who want their morning fix.
It’s a lovely little bubble here, in this world of mine where I’m enjoying my pseudo-solitude with my coffee, but I can’t help wondering about the guy sitting at the table adjacent to mine. Not that there’s anything weird about him, I’m just wondering what his story is. He looks a little despondent. Granted, so do I, before the caffeine cheers me up. He’s probably in his forties, maybe fifties. I’m a horrible judge of age, so I suppose he could be anywhere from thirty-five to sixty. He hasn’t taken off his jacket, hat, or gloves, so I guess he’s planning on leaving soon. Or maybe he’s just cold.
He has a venti drink in a hot drink cup with a straw sticking through the hole through which you usually sip coffee. That’s curious. He alternates between staring through his thick glasses at his drink and out the window. I can’t place his expression. It could be anxious. Maybe just sad. Or tired.
Well, my friend, I hope that whatever is keeping your gaze downwards today moves upwards. I hope that the coffee drink that you’re sipping right now helps with that. I pray that you see God today, my friend.
Right after I finished typing that, he got up, seemingly without any catalyst for his change in position. Then he took his drink and walked out the door.
I’ll probably never see him again, but I hope that if I do, he has a smile with him.