Feb.15, 2011
A dark haired, young woman walks by the coffee shop window. Across the street a city jogger with a white cap glides by—I can tell he is used to running by the way he floats across the pavement. The barista who served me some really good medium roast coffee, she’s with the one with the cool Australian accent, just gave me directions to Granville Island where I’m going to a one day seminar called, “Church Planting in the City.”
As I glance out at these buses flying by, hooked up to electrical wires and the walking commuters who are passing the commuting cars who are stopped at yet another light, I am struck by something: Despite the Police on foot, the tall buildings and the bustling traffic, this little block I am on is just like a small town chock full of people who need Jesus.
In fact this block I am on is like Sicamous, the little town where I live. If I was living here I would come to the same coffee shop everyday and get to know these folks. I would try and show them the love of Jesus like I do in Sicamous. I don’t really believe that these folks have any thicker skins than the ones in Sicamous. I think they just need some small town loving in the middle of a very big city.
Another thing that strikes me is the infinite number of faces and the endless variety in each one. It reminds me of the infinite creator and how He, being the infinite source of all these beautiful people, is the reason that there is a never-ending stream of unique personalities. Like the teenage girl who just walk by the window reading her Vancouver Province as she walked or the Indo-Canadian dude who is working in the back of this coffee shop or the short black guy with the salt and pepper goatee carrying that HUGE briefcase.
Each of them is known intimately by their infinite Lord and He seeks each of them. Lord of the Harvest, send someone to them I pray. Because they need You so badly.
The city is no different.
Except for the fact that this cup of coffee is waaaay better than anything in Sicamous.
Amen.
