I fidgeted in line: half of caffeine deprivation, half hoping that I had $2.37 left my gift card and wouldn’t look like crazy. In an effort to not look like a fiend, I surveyed the morning crowd.
The thin, but healthy looking, barista flashed the best customer service smile she could muster at the business men who buried their faces in their cellular devices. As they ordered their drinks, I noticed none of them looked the barista in the eye. One man had enough gall to flip a card at the barista with his drink order scrawled on the front, and not say a word. This older gentleman then swiped his credit card in the machine, and walked over to the end of counter, and silently demanded his drink. He left, not missing a beat, continuing the conversation on the phone, (something about “Environmentally green dog food”).
As I reached the counter, the barista’s eyes glazed over.
I placed my can of pomegranate-flavored green coffee energy and flashed her a smile, “G’MORNING!”
Her smile relaxed a bit, “Oh… sorry… Morning. How are you?”
“Pretty dang good,” I replied and watched her rub her eyes, “Rough morning?”
She let out deep sigh, “Yeah… just busy… and guys like that don’t make it easier. But it’ll be okay. I’ll get better.”
“It has to!” I said.
“Yes… it has to!” she said, playfully mocking my cadence, and took my overused giftcard, “You have eighteen cents.”
“Oh shoot…” I said, fumbling for my wallet in my overalls, “Can… can you spot me?” I said with a grin.
She laughed a little, “Naw… I mean you have eighteen cents left, mister.”
“Oh… uh… phew,” I said with bravado, “Thank ya ma’am.”
She laughed a little harder, “Get outta here, Silly… and thanks for laugh. It made my day.”
I am reminded of a sermon a pastor in my home church who said, “If we are going to change the world with Christ, can we start first with a kind word to our neighbors?”
Sometimes I get so wrapped up of wanting Christ to heal all the world’s ills with charismatic miracles that I listen to powerful sermons, or by trying to build new homes for every homeless person in the world, or wanting to zap bickering kids with a Holy Spirit gun.
Instead, I thank God for the World Race today. If I had not spent 11 months abroad, countless hours on buses with people who don’t speak English, and spent time with Christian vagabonds who became more like family, I would have missed this miracle.
Perhaps my experience, a low Starbucks card, and the Holy Spirit empowers me to heal others, one green-coffee energy drink at a time.
