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.
So here’s the problem. Continue reading