This was an older post from an old blog that I felt like republishing. enjoy!
I would have to say I am a fan of Starbucks. Now before you judge me and throw out everything I have ever written or sung let me explain.
How many times have you gone to some random coffee shop and ordered your usual, and gotten something not even close to what you remember a good cup of coffee tasting like. Well for me this happens a lot.
Now in Seattle to get a bad cup of coffee, well you have to kind a work to find one. It is more rare here than in other places. But as I travel all the time, and my coffee experiences out side of my city walls are well, an adventure to say the lease.
My drink of choice is an Iced Americano. I love them. No sugar, no milk, just an iced black cup of pure coffee goodness. You are probably saying ick. That sounds so nasty, and to some it probably is. It is strong and bitter and well tastes just like coffee, cause that’s what it is. Straight black coffee, and I love it.
So here is why I like Starbucks. I always know, what I am getting. Nothing to fancy but it is constant, and to me, well worth my searching of a local Bucks. Now every once in a blue moon when the bucks is nowhere to be found I stumble into a local coffee house to find my self pleasantly surprise. But more times then not, they are like you want what? How do I make that, and well that is a huge, run for the border, don’t do it, it is going to taste like poo, kind a of find.
Anyways all that to say, I went to Starbucks today and I didn’t want you to judge my reasoning of why I went there. Ha.
Something I have been talking about is “finding the simples” in life. Finding those moments of God in the everyday things we see so often.
Today it was raining, in good old Seattle. Who would of thought? I was sitting in one of those comfy little chairs that the bucks seems to fill there stores with. I was reading and well kind a just watching the people around me, go about their business.
Today there was this man who was sitting in the corner by the window reading a book and seemed completely oblivious to anything going on around him. He seemed to be somewhere else and was finding great Joy there.
Now let me take a sec and set him up. Cause he wasn’t the normal guy I would picture sitting in Starbucks and reading a book.
He had very shaggy hair, and a straggly bread and cloths that seemed to be from a few generations back. He was somewhat dirty and kind of looked like he needed a shower. He had very soft eyes, and well if you have ever seen the American Picture of Jesus, well he was quite close, minus the white robe. Now if I were to have past him on the street I would probably just have jumped to the conclusion that he was just another local homeless man. And well maybe he was, but I don’t usually see homeless men reading the bible and hanging out in a Starbucks.
As I watched him reading I was just really taken but the way he would read for a moment and then stare off into space sifting through the findings that he was discovering in the book that lay before him. He seemed so taken by it, as if it was the only thing in life that even mattered to him, and at that, maybe it was.
I wanted so bad to just go and sit down with him, and listen to what he had to say. To hear his story, and what had lead him to the Starbucks in which we sat.
I fear so often the result of what might happen that I miss out on what could happen. I feel as if this man had something I didn’t have; yet that is probably just a feeling I had. Never the less I still wish I had talked to him. I still have his picture so deeply imbedded in my mind. Hopefully I will see him again, and maybe this time I will go and hear what it was that he was finding.
As of now, to me, he is, the man in the corner.