Peace in the Middle East and at Starbucks

You see, I have this table at Starbucks.  It’s mine“.  Everyone knows it’s my office of sorts.  Every morning I arrive early and work there for several hours.

The toddler who peeks around the corner each day looking to share his cheese crackers with me knows where I am.

The ever-present chatty Brit – the “Norm” of our “Cheers” knows where to find me.

Mark, the doctor, stops by to say “hi”.

Anyone who ever meets with me ever knows where to come.

I like to think it’s a place where kingdom work is being pursued.

And I like to think there’s a special ambiance or aura around my table.  I feel more inspired when I sit there.  It’s comfortable.  I can spread out.  And it’s the perfect distance from coffee and people.  Close enough to be convenient, and far enough to not be interrupted too much.

desk

So here’s the problem.

Last week I was in D.C. at a conference hosted by a fantastic organization called Telos.  We were talking about peace and reconciliation, you know… over there in Israel/Palestine.  I was simultaneously inspired by those wise and patient enough to tackle this, and indignant with all the unreasonable, proud, close-minded folks who won’t talk or listen to each other.

But when I got home and went to Starbucks Friday morning SOMEONE HAD TAKEN MY TABLE!

And he kept taking my table.  Every morning he was arriving earlier than me and camping out.

It was wrong.  So wrong.  Like a settler illegally taking my land.  Or a terrorist, trying to scare me away from what I thought was mine.

All the regulars commented on it.  People were confused.  Like dominos, I took someone else’s table, and they moved to another, usurping someone else.  It upset the order of the universe for Pete’s sake!

Forget Ghandi.  Forget MLK.  Forget Lynne Hybels!   I decided, “Ok, Bub, it is so on!”

This morning I was waiting outside when Anna unlocked the doors to coffeeland.  It was dark and cold.  I could see my breath.  But this was a matter of justice!

I took back my rightful place by the cheery fireplace, glancing out the corner of my eye every once in awhile to see if usurper guy was going to come in and challenge me.

I know probably 52 regulars at my Starbucks by name, but I don’t want to get to know this guy.  He’s different.  I’m afraid to talk to him.  I don’t want to look him in the eye. This is my territory and I don’t care what his story is.  He needs to be put in his place.

Now he’s where he belongs.

usurper

And now, sitting at my table, I need to get back to memorizing the Sermon on the Mount and learning how to bring peace in the Middle East.  More later…

5 Comments

  1. Laughing! What a great start to my morning. Praying for you to strike up a conversation with him, come clean, reconcile your pride. You see, it’s so easy on this side of cyber world to “fix” your problem. Seriously, looking today for my own version of your West Bank situation. Thanks for shining the light on me.

    Sent from my iPhone

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  2. HILARIOUS!!! Made me bust out laughing!

  3. Laura, you have such a delightful, non-judgmental way of illuminating “the logs” in all our eyes! We are ALL sinners, and always will be! We just have to keep working on it, relying on the Holy Spirit to help us break those negative habits. Isn’t it AWESOME that the Lord will honor our efforts and loves us to pieces in spite of our sins!

    Thank you for your time, effort and commitment to this GREAT blog!

    • You are such an encourager Marcia, thank you!!!! We’re all in this together! I just try to put some words to what we all experience. Blessings on your day!

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