“Hello, Matt!” the few early morning baristas welcome me. I have come to expect this sort of treatment after countless days spent within its cozy walls. We have formed a bond over time, and though it is their job and essentially I am paying them for companionship, we have a certain understanding of each other. I believe “barista” can be translated to friend in some distant tongue.
I thrive on a certain routine of life. It helps me to know what to expect and puts structure to what can be a chaotic life. Going into Starbucks in the morning helps remind me that I do exist. I have a name and a favorite drink (iced coffee black, no sweetener) and every worker understands this. A few of them know what I do for a living, but most see me simply as “Matt”, the regular.
There is something in us that wants to be known. It goes beyond our achievements and resume and to something more instinctual. For many, this takes time and experience. We slowly open ourselves to those around us who have earned some level of trust. It can be a long slow burn before we get to the relational point of usual drink consumption. Yet, there are limits to how much we are known by others as well as ourselves. Many dedicate their lives to self-knowledge, only to fall short of a total understanding. Many spend decades in marriage, only to be baffled by their spouse’s choices.
But the creator sees differently. Being the one who breathes life into our forming bones, He knew us before anyone. Just as the artist knows the secret truth behind his or her artistic expression, the Father has an intimate knowledge of the shape of our soul. He knows our motivations and fears – our skills and our blunders. And perhaps the most ridiculous of things is that He loves us anyways. These things that make us US, only strengthens His bond and affection. There is an understated and under appreciated safety in His knowing of us. We then have the opportunity to be us.
Simple.
Unobstructed.
Messy.
Awkward.
Us.
You are known. You are loved. Your favorite drink is waiting for you.
Matt simon blog 