Triple Grande Mocha, Extra Hot, No Whip Please

If you follow my blog much, you already know that I’m friends with all of the gals (plus Tom) at my nail place.  I’ve tutored several of them in English and helped edit their papers.  They treat me like family when I go there because we have an ongoing relationship.  I know their names, and they know mine.  I think there is something to that. 

There is something about calling a person by name that is special.  When I can greet students by name, they light up.  They somehow know that to be known, matters.  I wish I could call them all by name. 

On one of several Starbucks runs last week, it dawned on me that I see the people in my favorite store more frequently than my family.  Certainly not with the intensity or duration, but in terms of frequency, my baristas are very familiar faces.

The more I thought about how often I visit, the more it bothered me that I know none of their names.  They are always super friendly, and we chat briefly over my order.  They’ve never messed up my drink, and they always smile and wish me well.  Occasionally, like this Saturday morning, I’ll hang out in their living room sipping a warm treat, enjoying a rare moment to just relax and escape into the pages of a favorite book.  And yet, I don’t know their names.

When last week’s tragedy happened, one of the things the media reported about the shooter was that he was a loner.  It seems like that is always the case in these kinds of events.  I guess mental illness was also a factor, but it bothers me that these people are always so disconnected from others.  I don’t understand why there are so many people who feel alone.  Unnoticed.  

I’m not suggesting that all school shootings could be avoided by someone befriending one of these isolated kids, but I sure don’t think it would hurt.  People isolate themselves because they are hurting.

But I don’t think we were designed by our creator to live in isolation, to brave the world alone.  I was struck yet again by the truth of this while I was sitting in Starbucks reading from Cross Roads.  Jesus tells Tony, the protagonist, “You can’t do any of this on your own or even on your own terms.  You were created by a community to exist in community, made in the image of a God who has never known anything except community.”

While I don’t fully understand the Trinity as community, I do get what he is saying.  God exists in community as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  One, and yet three.  Yeah…it boggles the mind.  But it emphasizes our innate need for community.  To be known and to know others. 

I love, love, love the lyrics to the song, “He Knows My Name.”

I have a Maker
He formed my heart
Before even time began
My life was in his hands

I have a Father
He calls me His own
He'll never leave me
No matter where I go

He knows my name
He knows my every thought
He sees each tear that falls
And He hears me when I call.


There is something special about being called by your name.  Belonging to a community of people who know you and notice your absence. 

We have opportunities every day to mingle in a whole slew of communities.  Family, church, work, school, Facebook, Happy Nails, and even Starbucks. 

I think it’s time for me to introduce myself to my baristas.