At Starbucks, I work in a culture where it is actually part of my job description to know my customers by name. We serve on average 500 of them every day. That’s a lot of names to know. I regret to say that I’m not that great at it. Sometimes I’ll muster up the courage to ask someone for their name for the first time that I’ve seen at least a 200 times. I’ll say, “This is kind of embarrassing, and I know I’ve known you for at least a year, but what is your name?” Other times, I will have forgotten a name that I already asked and then I’m really embarrassed to re-ask the question. That usually takes another 4 months to muster up the courage to ask, “I’m sorry, was your name Shane or Sean? I can't remember. I forgot just moments after you told me 4 months ago." One of my strategies to avoid that embarrassing question is to randomly call out the name I think it is into the café and see if his head moves to respond. If it does, I got it. If not, back to the drawing board or to just avoiding the name entirely. If I’m lucky, I can cheat by looking at his credit card. That’s always super helpful.
One of the reasons of Starbuck's success is their approach to customer service. Each barista should have a passion for wanting to develop a culture where they know their customers by name and have relationship with them. I’ve always been so shocked at how loyal many of the customers become in a short period of time. There are even many that will come not just every single day, but also multiple times throughout the day. I couldn’t connect to why our customers are like that until one year ago. For the first time, I became a “regular” somewhere.
I tried rock climbing at Lifetime Fitness for fun since I had a free week trial. I was hooked the first time I went up. Then there was something else I discovered. There was this “culture” there that I didn’t know existed. I’ve seen other cultures that I found fascinating but couldn’t connect to, like dune buggy people or hot air balloon people. I didn’t want to be one of those. But I was drawn to this culture.
Funny thing is that I’m terrified of heights. I will actually pull over my car and make another driver switch with me to go over large bridges if I’m not too ashamed to admit it. I don’t like balconies so you won’t see me looking over the edge. I really struggled to go on my hot air balloon ride last year. I’ll tell you something embarrassing that I told the other girls in the balloon. I was afraid because I thought I might spontaneously jump out of the balloon. Yes, that was my fear. I’m nuts. Fortunately, I did not do that thing and during the last 15 minutes of the ride I peeled myself off of the inside of the basket to look out on the edge, holding on very tightly of course so that I wouldn't jump out against my will. Oh my word. What is wrong with me?
But these people, rock climbers, I like them. They motivated me to move past my fears. I soon became a "regular". They gave me tips, taught me to belay and motivated me by putting an “awesome card” at the top of a route I was struggling with. And yes, an “awesome card” was literally a card taped to the top that said “awesome card” just for me. They let me name my very own rock shoes that only I am allowed to wear. Who are these wonderful people? And how did they know how to get me to come back?
Last Friday Jared, an old employee who had taught me to belay, took his own life. He couldn’t fix his pain and heartache. The sad thing is that he was a living, breathing miracle. He should have either been dead or permanently in a wheel chair just a few years ago when he fell in a rock climbing accident. But God reached down and gave him everything back to be rock climbing again. I told him he was a living, breathing miracle. I wish I told him why.
I have a small rock collection that I began last August 4, when Martel Clark died at Lake Huron. I have a rock for Timothy Robinson who was one of my second grade students who took his life June 26, 2010. I will have another for Jared. In the Bible, many people often used stones for various purposes for marking or altars to the Lord. Genesis 31:45 reads, “And Jacob took a stone and set it up as a memorial.” Jacob set up a memorial stone to set a covenant between him a Laban to remind them of their promise not to harm each other. They proceeded to make a pile of stones on this memorial stone; each man even gave this “marker” or “pillar” a name.
This morning I decided to make a stone as a memorial for Jarod to remind me of missed opportunities. My heart is so heavy about the matter that I want God to be ever present in the lives of those grieving that are left behind and who were very close to Jared.
Surprisingly, moments after I had decided this, a young man I know approached me and offered his own “marker” he had made for me. He referenced the scripture just like I had been thinking about just minutes ago. He said it was something he felt he needed to do to remind him of what God has brought him through. This marker was a gift for others and me to understand that we had played a small part in his healing and even from considering taking his own life this past year just like Jared.
I was quite moved to know how desperately each one of us plays a part in other’s lives. Some of the most insignificant things we think we do are the most powerful things we do in our entire life.
These little rocks, these “markers” will stand to remind me to always do the seemingly insignificant things for those around me, no matter how little impact I think it will have or how little I know the person.
Knowing a person by name. I’ll start with that and see where it leads.
