Monday, October 1, 2012

the last latte

there is nothing like walking past a twitching homeless looking person on your way into starbucks to make you feel like a complete monster.

and (yes mom) i know, i know, i know - i should never go to starbucks in the first place because it is a waste of money.

but i do. i am a sucker for good atmosphere and i love going to cafes to read. so the other sunday i was going to read before work and i walked past that man sitting outside the entrance. i ignored him. i got my pumpkin spice latte and sat down with my bible and journal spread out on the table and i could not stop staring at the man sitting outside, feeling like the biggest hypocrite in the world.

i bought some bread to give him. (funny how overpriced and ridiculous starbucks seemed when i was not buying it for myself.) he came shuffling into the store with some kind of limp, and he had a credit card and i thought, 'oh geez chelsea, he is not even homeless you are just incredibly judgmental of how he LOOKS.'

but there was some sort of scuffle at the register, and i assume the card was declined because he did not get anything and the cashier seemed miffed. he went back out to his spot outside by the door and began saying something to everyone who came in and they would look at him with an extremely uncomfortable expression.

the day before, my devotions were VERY specifically all about helping the poor. does this happen to anyone else?! or does God love me extra?

i could not concentrate on reading, and i don't think the Lord had me there to read at that point anyway, so i was about to leave and give him the bread when the cops showed up to talk to the man. the employees cheered, but when the cop came inside he spoke to the manager and more or less seemed agitated by the whole thing. he did not make the man leave. peculiar, but then again the city i work in is full of shootings and stabbings galore, so i suppose those things take priority over loitering.

the cop left and i went outside. the man was smoking and wearing dark glasses and i just said, "do you want this?" and handed him the bag of bread when he said "sure." as i turned to walk away i heard him say, "thank you darling."

he seemed sweet, like the kind of character i enjoy listening to. aside from his black, gnarled upper lip he reminded me of willie nelson. i don't know why i didn't at least talk to him briefly. i was curious about him as a person, but the huge glass windows allowing a packed coffeehouse of gawkers to watch our interaction must have scared me away.

which is sad. because now i'll probably never know his story.

was he an alcoholic? a freeloader or con man? was he there as part of a psychology experiment for an ivy league university? does he have a deep faith or none at all? was he lonely? does he have a home? what happened to his lip? how did he afford cigarettes? where was he going after starbucks? does he get a lot of guilt muffins like mine? what was he saying to all the people as they walked in? where will he go for christmas? has he cried himself to sleep so many nights that he is all cried out? or is he content with his life?

what would he want the world to know about him and about life?

i drove away convicted. (in all honestly i sat at the red light beside the shop so long that someone honked at me when it turned green because i was still staring at him thinking, 'what if he was Jesus and i just effed that up completely?! what if he was an angel and i totally blew a really easy test?!' ... i take things to the extreme, people, but you probably know this.)

i didn't really stop thinking about it and last week at bible study a woman shared a very similar experience she had with homeless people at panera bread. what i experienced and what she shared really stirred something up inside of me.

the conversation that followed did not resolve anything in my mind, but maybe it wasn't meant to. there is something more that God wants me to see and do, and parts of myself i need to face and change.

if we don't respond in the "little stuff" we will not respond at all.

1 comment:

Angie Myer said...

Chels you are my hero!! :) I LOVE your tender heart!! I'm so glad you did that for him -- you definitely passed that test.

Love you,
Ang