If you’ve read my blog for more than five posts, then you know I like to write in coffee shops.
I am in one of my favorites today.
There’s an old couple here. I’ve seen them before. About five or six months ago, I sat at the table next to them, and listened to their incredibly sad and loving conversation.
Today, they’re sitting outside in the rain.
Every time I look out at them, I am distracted by a man sitting alone with a bottle of red wine at the table just inside the window.
The rain is splashed across the glass behind his head. It’s trying to reach him through the pane, but he is safe. Warm.
I love him.
I love them.
I love rain.
I love the way God makes my story intersect with people who I will never speak to, and I can’t help but imagine all the thousands of threads that are touching some how in this moment, in this room.
It is one of my greatest joys: being alone with perfect strangers and all the stories that they represent.
It stirs my heart in love for Him. How He must feel about this room and these people! What strange and complicated creatures He has made!
There is no creator like Him.
“Worthy are you, our Lord and God,
to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things,
and by your will they existed and were created.” (Revelation 4:11, ESV)
God makes life. He creates complex, living beings.
He designed all these people around me. By His will, they exist, filled with dreams and doubt and pain and hope and stories. He makes all their stories.
I moments like this I’m reminded of my favorite line in American Beauty: ‘Sometimes there is so much beauty in the world, I feel like I can’t take it.’
In moments like this, I get that.
I know that old couple out there – their lives may not feel romantic to them. It may just seem like mundane life to them. But from this far away – I can step back and see this larger pattern and I can see that we are the fabric God uses to draw His glory. That is tragically and gloriously romantic to me.
And maybe that sounds weird.
But maybe you know exactly what I mean.
Happy Monday, fellow strangers.