Some days it’s a lot. But one thing I wake up and learn a little more every day is that this wild and crazy story God is writing for us has a lot of incredible depth, a lot of incredible, unexpected twists … if we will just hand it all to Him … and hang on. Not to the stuff. To Him. To His story.
I wasn’t there. So I didn’t get a name tag.
But Elizabeth tells me that if I would’ve been there, I wouldn’t have been allowed to write something normal on it. Like family. Friends. God. I’d have to write something ridiculous. Because everybody’s thankful for that stuff. And whatever it was needed to have a dinner-table story.
What did hers say?
It wasn’t her best material, but she said it’d do, because long story short, Publix saved Friendsgiving last Sunday night. So all our people got to eat. And write name tags.
Name tags that said what they’re thankful for.
Things like … 10-minute breaks.
I stood outside on mine that night and let the cold hit my arms, my breath curling in the air that night while Friendsgiving was going on. I hated missing it. I love my friends. Our lives are messy. But they’re hilarious. I hated to not be there.
But I was making coffee that night.
And that … that I didn’t hate.
And there are all kinds of reasons why. This season has been an interesting one. I joked with someone the other day that I’ve found myself in charge of coffee, people and money, three things I’ve never wanted to be in charge of. My life used to be a lot of words. These days it’s a lot of steaming milk. A lot of doing the whip and nae nae while shaking whipped cream canisters. A lot of being really, really stretched. A lot of people … and a lot of stories.
And those people and stories are etching themselves on my heart, just like the coffee smell that’s permanently written on my clothes.
And that I love.
God is pretty cool.
It’s funny. This is a part of my story that I never would’ve expected at 35. Wow, it’s different from everything I ever planned to do. And wow, some days it’s a lot.
But one thing I wake up and learn a little more every day … is that this wild and crazy story God is writing for us has a lot of incredible depth, a lot of incredible, unexpected twists … if we will just hand it all to Him … and hang on. Not to the stuff. To Him. To His story.
Because His story is pretty great.
It has been for a long time.
And there’s still a lot left to go.
I want a piece of that.
It starts and ends in the Bible. And my coffeehouse is right there in the middle.
Not literally, of course. But all of the parts of God’s story go together into a living, breathing whole. All the parts, messy as they are, are a seamless story of redemption with Jesus at the center, and a life without night, without tears still to come.
Every night when I lock the café doors, God sees me. He sees me just as much as He saw Ruth in that wheat field even though she was a foreigner, as much as He saw the prostitute who saved His spies’ lives, as much as He saw the man born blind.
And the people He saw back then … the stories of who He is and how He saw them … are changing me.
Like a friend said the other day, reading the Bible really is kind of like reading a story … it’s just that the story is true and can change your life … unlike Harry Potter or To Kill a Mockingbird.
It is. It can.
It makes your heart pound. It wakes your soul up.
It gives you an ending to wait for. And it makes your today come alive.
I love it.
And that’s what I would’ve written on my name tag, what I’m thankful for.
Unexpected twists … and the God who writes them.
Every single one is part of the story … a living, breathing story. I don’t know how we’ll get there, but I know where we’re headed.
And that’s the best part of all.
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