I don’t like coffee and I wouldn’t choose to garnish my treats with whipped cream but buy me a Coconut Mocha Frappuccino and I’ll consider your marriage proposal. The taste of coffee is usually bitter and awful, but when blended with the likely abundance of sugar and mixed and topped with the delectably toasted coconut I could drink the tall size (I keep it small to keep the love handles from excitedly leaping out the top of my jeans) in a quick jiffy! It’s that delicious and worthy of my praise.
I am surprised at myself. I came to Starbucks to get out of the house before my 3 o’clock shift. I was feeling pretty dry, not too excited about life. This was made evident by a wasted morning. I sat on the couch for two hours; I watched two roommates ready and leave for work, one go on a 3 mile run, and another feed her family the first meal of their day then entertain them with her sweet motherly affection – all while I sat watching a couple episodes from Shark Week and of Wilfred, a new series the fellas have found. Okay seriously, Wilfred is freaking preposterous but mysteriously intriguing and I can’t help but laugh so very hard. Maybe the morning wasn’t a complete waste since I got to laugh with some roommates throughout the two hours, but my zeal for enduring the day has been slothful, my spirit has been all but fervent. And I come to this nice little coffee shop and be passionate about a drink – a drink whose quick entrance into my insides has caused me an instant ache. I’m going to read through the first chapter of Romans with a hope that the Holy Spirit will awaken my passion for Christ so that I don’t run to other things that are coffee drinks when I feel convicted about my lack-luster attitude. I don’t even like coffee. Get it together, Cor.
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