Today is a big day… a very big and special day. Not because I just received a promotion or a bonus… not because I had an amazing date last night or because I got a random and thoughtful gift from a friend, but because today, for the first day in 2010, I am drinking my Starbucks coffee out of a red cup. I can’t tell you the excitement and joy that washes over me as I hold this bright and happy red cup filled with a non-fat, no whip, extra hot peppermint mocha. I don’t know much, or frankly anything, about the specifics of heaven, but I do hope there are red cups and peppermint mochas there.
So how did I begin this love affair with a paper cup? Well, to explain that, I must take you back to the beginning of my relationship with coffee - one that, in one form or another, has lasted almost three decades. My grandmother, on my dad’s side, was the Grand Dame of a small town in Texas. Being the good Baptist that she was, every afternoon she would have the ladies of the town over for some strong coffee and good gossip. Some of my earliest memories are me sitting on her lap smelling and occasionally sipping coffee. Although my first cup would come years later, thanks to Mimi and these memories, I fell in love with the concept of coffee before the age of two. I soon began to love “coffee-flavored” items (Marble Slab & Haagen Dazs coffee ice cream, in particular) and would often grab my mom and dad’s coffee to simply get a whiff of its aroma.
It wasn’t until college, however, that I fell for the stuff… but, when I fell, I fell hard. I don’t remember the first time I visited the Starbucks on 24th in the West Campus of the University of Texas.... Isn’t that a phenomenon of life?? Usually the most profound of moments we have trouble recalling because they change our lives in such a drastic way that we have difficulty pin pointing when the change occurred, and we find it nearly impossible to think back to life prior to the occurrence. Thus is the case with me, coffee and Starbucks red cups.
I do remember that it was around fall semester finals of my freshmen year. I had occasionally been at the Starbucks, but I had never actually placed an order. I don’t remember how I zeroed in on a peppermint mocha, but I do know that it must have been destiny because somewhere in me was placed a longing… a longing that begins around October of every year and grows stronger and stronger until the cups appear.
See I can tell you history, but I can’t really put into words why those cups bring a smile to my face. I know it’s a combination of two of my favorite things - Christmas and coffee, but there’s something deeper… memories I can’t pinpoint, emotions I can’t label, reasons I can’t fully describe.
And so this is the case with us as human beings. We often like to say that we are so much less complex than we make ourselves out to be, but I can't believe that is true. We’re actually so complex, so intricately wired, so emotionally driven, that to really admit how much we don’t get ourselves would probably frighten us. So we stereotype, we simplify, but what good does that do anyone?
Proverbs 14:10 states that “...each heart knows its own bitterness, and no one else can fully share its joy.”
We love to walk through life with people. We love to have allies - to have friends, spouses, siblings and parents to fight battles alongside us. And we need other human beings - we need support, encouragement and back-up, but, as we are receiving it, or, in some difficult circumstances, when we don’t receive it, when we must fight without it, let us not forget that a human ally is not all we need.
No human… no matter how similar to you, no matter how closely related or how long they have walked alongside you, can ever fully “go there” with you. No one will ever truly be able to understand how something hit your heart for the better or for the worse. No one, no matter how much they try, will understand the depths of an ache or the heights of a joy. No one, not even you, will fully be able to describe the desolation of your soul or the overflow of your spirit… no one, that is, except the One that made you. The One, who constructed your heart both physically, before your birth, and figuratively, as He holds and molds it through each up and down of your life, sees you, knows you and has written and shared in every moment that has led you to this point. He knows your fears - He saw them first appear. He knows your tears - He’s held them in His hands. He knows your joys - He gave you the ability to experience them.
So, dear one, daily run to the one who “gets” you. Cling to the one who not only understands your pain, but also is able to bear it. Share sweet moments with the One who constantly blesses you.
Who knew that a peppermint mocha in a red cup would be the highlight of many dark days?? He did…
-Biblically Blonde
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