A Coffee Lover’s Hell

  A Coffee Lover’s Hell

The other day I’m sitting in the drive-through at Starbucks scoring a much needed caffeine boost—a tall white chocolate mocha. Now, fellas, I normally drink my coffee black, but every now and then I like to live on the dangerous side of caramel, milk, and whipped cream. I expect the usual delays when using drive-through, but the lady in the car in front of me was obnoxiously slow. Obliviously, inconsiderate of the patient coffee aficionados behind her, she acted as if the world revolved entirely around her bulging car emblem, plush leather seats, and manicured nails. She put the “star” in Starbucks; it was her movie, she was the star. Starbucks was supporting cast, and the line of cars jammed behind her were just, well, unpaid extras who should be happy just to inhale her exhaust. She read and reread the menu like she was proofing the fine print of her Global Life insurance policy. I just knew that at any moment the sky would crack, Jesus would rapture the Church, and I would be forced to leave my car in Starbucks’s drive-through!

Am I Being Punked?
Finally, after the cows came home, she selected her beverage of choice and crept sluglike to the window. Once there, she took her time receiving her beverage from the server, sipped it, and paused as if critiquing the latest Chardonnay, placed it tidily in the cup holder, and rearranged something in the passenger seat to accommodate her incoming bagel. “Oh, would you warm this for me please?” Are you kidding me right now? After receiving her bagel, she handed it back to the guy and insisted that he warm it. Okay, where are the cameras? At best, I’m the newest victim of the TV show Punked, at worse, another two minutes of my life wasted on a blueberry bagel, nonetheless.

Out of Christmas Cheer
Finally, with warm bagel in hand and steaming java in the cup holder, the inconsiderate driver pulled up. Not off and away, but up. I inched up to the window in the space ungraciously left for me, and to my surprise, the server, without saying a word, looked me in the eye, closed the window, and disappeared into the delicious abyss of brewing coffee, blueberry Danishes, apple fritters, and cash registers. Wow, the nerve! A bad-mannered patron and a discourteous sales rep? I sat there for a moment; it was the Christmas holidays, but I’m quickly running out of cheer. The impolite driver in front was noticeably self-absorbed, and now this Starbucks barista seemed ill-mannered as well.

The Grande Upgrade
At that moment I had a choice to make; I could brood, boil, burst, and give him a piece of my mind, or I could keep calm and allow the peace of God to rule my heart and carry on. Hesitantly, I chose the latter. I took a deep breath and hoped that he would return within the millennia. What I did not know was that the barista had witnessed my patience and, without a word, decided to upgrade my tall white chocolate mocha to a grande!

Sometimes, a wait isn’t a delay but an upgrade! When in the throes of life, we must resist the urge to rush God to get our plans accomplished. God’s plans follow a precise sequencing order from the foundation of the earth. Everything in the universe, the galaxy, and even your life coincides with a strict divine order more fundamentally permanent than 1, 2, 3 or A, B, C. God has an order, a recipe for your life, and a chain of events that obeys a rigid progressive procession.

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