Why I Love Starbucks
Earlier today, I was cleaning out the closet in my office and I came across a picture of me and my friend Jess at Starbucks. I started thinking about how lovely that moment was, being with someone I loved at a place I have grown to love. Then I began reflecting on why I love Starbucks so and have come up with the following list of reasons:
1. ATMOSPHERE
I am cheap. I love nice things, but I won’t buy them unless they are down to clearance prices. I scoff at paying over twenty dollars for anything, yet I will gleefully spend close to six dollars for a grande vanilla latte and a vanilla cupcake at Starbucks. Do I feel as if I am getting ripped off? Sure don’t. It is because I am not only paying for coffee and a delicious baked good, but I am paying for a sense of calm, a sense of serenity, a sense that in
Starbucks I am somehow wiser, prettier, wealthier…
Many things add to the atmosphere. The music is the number one thing. One day a few weeks ago, the music was blaring and it ruined the experience. But that has only happened once and I forgave by the next week. Not only does Starbucks usually play their music at the perfect volume, they play music I actually like. Another thing that adds to the atmosphere is the artwork. I love the collage-look of most of
their art. I am often tempted to steal it, but I have yet to do so. The third piece of atmosphere-help comes in the form of the immensely sought after Comfortable Chairs (they deserve to be capitalized). The first thing one does when driving up to Starbucks is
to look through the windows to see if people are occupying the Comfortable Chairs. If they are, one is momentarily saddened. One might think, “If only I had cut that guy off!” or “I don’t even know this person, but I hate him/her!” But that feeling passes as soon as
one walks in. The smell of the espresso and the gentle hum of music hypnotizes the soul. As soon as one steps foot inside, the world is suddenly at peace.
2. A CHANCE TO REBEL
At many various eating/drinking places, I will order the same thing every single time. When I go to Chilli’s, it is completely insane to think that I will order anything other than the chicken crispers, with baked apples, mashed potatoes, and a side of honey mustard. That’s my meal. At Cafe Del Rio, the best Mexican place in Pittsburg, Kansas, I got the
chicken chimichanga with queso sauce every single time. I did not want to try an enchilada or a taco; I had found my love and I stuck with it.
At Starbucks, however, I go crazy (think Girls Gone Wild, but with clothes and morals). I do not have a usual drink there. Sometimes I will order a mocha, sometimes I will get the caramel macchiato. I will often order the great tea or java chip frappuccino. I have just added the vanilla latte (hot AND iced) into my rotation.
When I walk into Starbucks, I feel wild, young, and carefree. When I walk up to that counter and they ask me what I’ll be having, it takes me a moment to decide. I think to myself, “What sounds good today?” I live in the moment, taking in all of the beauty and sweet, coffee-filled aromas.
3. FEELING POPULAR
Every Starbucks employee I have ever encountered have had two things in common: they are pretty and they act like they’re truly excited to
see you. Combine these two things and you will receive a serious ego-boost. Sure, these people get paid to be friendly. But when they tell you to have a good day, you feel that they cannot have a good day unless you can, as well. When they compliment your shirt or earrings, you feel as if you should be on the cover of Vogue.
When I walk up the counter, I experience a deep sense of belonging. These people do not know me, nor I them, but we have an unspoken love and respect for one another. I like one’s hair, she likes my skirt. I like the sound of one’s voice, he delivers my drink with a big grin. We are all one–different yet the same.
Starbucks does not only provide good coffee; it is the starting point for world peace.
Awake With Questions
For my history class, I have to write a fictional paper. We had several themes and time periods to choose from and I picked the Great Awakening. From that point, I could tell whatever story I wanted to tell. I ended up writing about a boy born to very religious parents. This boy, thought of by his father to be a future preacher, simply cannot grasp the idea of God. He does not understand God’s message because he cannot seem to believe that God exists.
I have heard many times that a person writes what he or she knows, and I suppose I am doing the same thing. Though I do believe in God’s existence, I, like the boy I am writing about, have many doubts and questions. The idea of doubting God used to trouble me severely. How could I, someone who has grown up in church, whose father is a pastor, ever doubt the one thing in my life that has always been thought of as true?
In my middle school years, I purchased an album by Christian artist Nichole Nordeman called Wide Eyed. The album begins with the lines “It’s well past midnight/And I’m awake with questions that won’t wait for daylight.” That album became so deeply personal to me, allowing me to realize that I was not the only one who wrestled. (It is one of the only albums from those junior high years that I still treasure and play often.)
It so often seems as if the church does not truly address issues of doubting or wondering. We often acknowledge such things exist, but brush them off. We end up treating the symptoms instead of the primary illness, focusing on the problem and not the source of it.
I used to think that to question God was the worst possible offense for a Christian, that doubting Him meant that you just didn’t believe or try hard enough. But belief in anything is not something you can force. Belief comes naturally, over time. Forced belief is not belief at all but a facade that will only soon wear thin. I have often tried to force myself to believe in one thing or another so many times throughout the years. And it never works, never lasts.
I am learning that doubting is not the opposite of belief, but simply a sign of hunger. Though I am sure it makes God ache to know that His children cannot always feel or hear Him, there has to be a part of Him that rejoices when His child looks for Him, when His child cares enough to ask. At least I hope so.
Small Revisions
I didn’t realize until recently just how hopeless and cynical I’d become. Feelings of loneliness and fears of abandonment have plagued me for so long now, it seems. I think much of it stems from what I see when I look in the mirror.
I struggle to believe that I am cute, let alone beautiful. Like it or not, physical beauty does matter. And I often feel as if I have none. I usually think that if a woman is not physically attractive that no man will ever want her. I have a hard time believing a man will ever want me, due to some past experiences.
I had this vision of all of my closest friends marrying and starting families, leaving me behind. Marriage and children definitely change a friendship so I have feared losing even more of the closeness I seek in my relationships. As I saw my friends each moving on in their lives, I saw myself standing still, waiting in vain for my prince to arrive. And when he did not, I received an answer to the Question which I have always feared asking: Am I lovely enough to merit pursuit?
Each culture is obsessed with beauty in their own way. After a close friend of mine returned home from a month-long trip to Africa, she told me curvy, voluptuous women are much preferred to thinner ones in that society. In America, the opposite is true. Thin is the requirement for universal beauty in this culture. And regardless how thin a woman might be, I have seen very few, myself included, who believe they are enough.
In the end, that’s what is always comes down to for me: I am not enough. I am not enough as a woman. I am not enough as a friend. I am not enough, not enough, not enough…The list of my “not enough’s” is extremely lengthy, but the number one thing is always this: I am not beautiful enough for anyone to ever choose me.
A few days ago, I had something of an epiphany: All of my negative thoughts were useless and immensely damaging, physically and emotionally. I was not doomed to a hopeless, depressing life. If I wanted to change, I could do so. And so I have been attempting to live a positive life, as cheesy as that sounds.
When I feel that I am not enough, I remind myself that all anyone can ever ask of me is that I do my best. I remind myself of the things I have already achieved. I also do my best to remember the people who think I am more than enough, who love me always. Instead of working out in order to resemble Tyra Banks someday, I now work out for health’s sake and also because I like how it makes me feel. Instead of assuming that I am invisible to the entire male race, I am trying to believe that God has one man, just one, to answer my Question with a resounding “yes.”
The more I implement these changes, the lighter my shoulders have started to feel. The more I pray for the negative thoughts–the lies–to be silenced, the more hope I see. I was becoming a sad, depressed person for a while and that was not who I wanted to be. I am trying. And for now that is enough.
Little Steps in a Consistent Pursuit
There are only four weeks left to go in the book study I’ve been co-leading. The chapter we were supposed to cover in Captivating this week talked about a woman’s longing for beauty, to possess it and be in the presence of it. Last week’s chapter dealt with romance and how the female heart is wired for it. I am not one for the typical romantic gestures; I’m not too impressed with candy and flowers. I loathe romance novels and hate most overtly-romantic movies. But even inside of me, there is a desire for romance. Not the typical, cliche kind; I long for a romance unique to me and my personality.
For tonight’s gathering, we asked the girls to bring their favorite movie clip that showcased a great love story or a deeply beautiful woman. I brought Moulin Rouge! and showed the scene where Satine was singing to the man she loved, Christian, during the show, with him turning around and coming back for her. As I thought about the movie this afternoon, I was reminded why I love it so much. The concept that struck me the very first time I saw it is still the concept that strikes me most now and that is the concept of grace.
There is a very big part of me who can identify with the character of Satine. She is a prostitute who is surprised when a man like Christian shows interest in her. She knows that she possesses beauty, but Christian is not seeking her simply for her physicality. He sees more and instead seeks her heart. She does not understand this at first. She is used to men using her, paying her, then moving on. When Christian begins to pursue her, she doubts she is worthy. Christian is a good man, and she is a whore. Yet he sees goodness in her and tries to get her to understand and embrace that goodness.
I too constantly struggle with feeling worthy. I often feel inadequate as a student, friend, Christian, and just as a woman in general. I cannot fathom why God would choose me to play a role in His story, or why He keeps on pursuing me when I mess up that role time and time again.
When I look at myself, I so often see a failure. While perhaps not a complete one, there are countless areas of my life I know I could easily improve upon. But I was reminded today, while thinking about the movie, that anyone who is pursued by God in no way deserves it. No one is holy, and no one comes to God with clean hands. While I can forgive others, it is immensely difficult to forgive myself. I neglect grace and instead often choose justice.
When I examine my spirituality, I see so many areas that could be stronger. I should pray more, spend more time in Scripture, encourage more often, reach out to those who are in need. I am instead so often wrapped up in myself, letting selfishness control my actions and my deeds. But I am learning that being like Jesus does not simply include the big, praise-worthy things believers are often called or told to do. While saying hello to someone who is alone is not a riveting act, it is a necessary one. While forgiving someone who has never asked will not be a topic in the next big box office smash, very few things are more Christ-like.
I know that for me the whole point of my faith is trying to be more like Jesus. I have not done this lately, nor have I tried much. But I am trying to trust that God can use broken people to mend the wounds of other broken souls. I am trying to believe that though I am not often aware of it, there is something in my heart that God has placed there that always draws me back to Him.
Faith is messy, and trying to understand who Jesus really is messier. But I am learning that faith is a series of small steps and not always huge leaps. Kindess is a step to becoming more like Jesus. Patience, charity, and forgiveness were all attributes of Christ. Though I don’t fully understand my role in the story, I know that I have a role. I know that though I too often whore myself out to things that are anything but holy Jesus is willing to fight for me.
I know many things, but applying that knowledge is the most difficult thing for me. Accepting it is even harder.
