The lights flick on and the music begins to play, it’s time for the show to begin. The sweet smell of espresso breathes life into the morning as the perfectly timed shots begin to pour. The first customer of the day stumbles in, dressed for a day at the office but in need of something. I smile with sympathetically tired eyes and begin to craft a one of a kind beverage that will carry him through the morning. When the masterpiece is complete, I call him by name, deliver the treasured “first cup of the day” and send him on his way.
Six months ago, I treasured the softness of the morning serving coffee at Starbucks. I thrived on the chaos of 15 drink orders for the doctor’s office on Thursdays, and a bar lined on both sides with cups waiting to be filled with coffee that looked and tasted like perfection. I have long missed the green apron, and the responsibility to inspire and nurture the human spirit through my interactions with customers and coworkers. Mornings on the Race are a little bit different. I’m not starting my days at 4 AM and if I can get my hands on a hot cup of Folger’s, it’s a good day.
This month, we’re in Xenacoj, Guatemala primarily serving the widows of the community. On my first morning here, ministry began at 8 AM and our ministry host told us we would be serving breakfast to the widows. I was a little nervous and still pretty tired. We were given directions to serve coffee as it was poured and plates of spaghetti and bread as it was portioned. A little excited, I grabbed two steaming cups and headed into the dining room. My heart melted the second my Chaco-laiden feet stepped into a room full of little old ladies decked out from head to toe in traditional Mayan garb. I began to hand out each cup with a greeting and a smile, and their sweet faces returned the gesture. My inner-barista came out and took so much joy in watching the smiles surface on each widows wrinkled face.
The excitement began to build as our interactions with the widows went from serving meals to home visits. Behind each pair of aged eyes was a story of heartache, husbands leaving or dying from years of abusing alcohol. Children dying of disease or horrific accidents. The devistation of raising a family as a single mother in a culture who barely recognizes women as human. The bondage these women live in is impossible to comprehend.
As the month has progressed, I began to see each home visit as an opportunity to inspire. What many don’t know is that at Starbucks, the coffee is only half of the experience. My job six months ago was not only to craft perfectly calculated beverages, but to create inspired moments in my customers days. The responsibility to inspire was freshly laid on my heart in a completely new setting. With this realization in mind, I went from being content to just be in the room with these women to needing to be front and center. Holding the tender yet well-worn hand who had known suffering all too well was my opportunity.
I have begun to let myself meet these women in their hardship. Instead of just cringing at the painful stories they share, I’m allowing myself to cry with them. Somehow the Lord has used the tender strength of Guatemalan widows to open my heart to be filled by Him and then poured back into them.
The Lord is doing INCREDIBLE things here in Guatemala and in me through this Race. I’m quickly approaching my final financial deadline on July 1st, and I only need $3,600 more to be FULLY FUNDED. I would greatly appreciate if you prayerfully considered donating. Thank you for following my journey, and for your support! Love you!
