Thinking About God’s Waiting Room While Buying a Latte at Starbucks

Thinking About God’s Waiting Room

While Buying a Latte at Starbucks

T.P. Bird

“The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of
God to be revealed . . . in hope that the creation itself
will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought
into the glorious freedom of the children of God.”
—Romans 8:19, 21

While waiting in the drive-thru lane, I look about:

It’s early April—aglow with the white, red, and
pink buds & blossoms of spring, the wallpaper
God chose for his waiting room—at least for this

season of my life. That is to say, things change:
the smell of Earth and the scent of man, the feel
of breeze or breath upon one’s cheek, the taste of

words—like different coffees—spoken to others
(or one’s self). What you hear from about (or from
within)—all reminders that one is never sure what

to think is true of (or in) this fugitive world. Here in
God’s waiting room we all hope to hold off the last
of summer’s shining rays upon our bodies, the descent

of autumn’s final leaf, its sound as silent as a tomb,
or the final snow of a long hard winter; too many try
to hold back the end of what they know of life, while

expecting nothing more. Yet, by faith, it’s here that
creation and I await life anew in the promised age
beyond all this. Though creation’s present beauty can

amaze and stir the soul, creation and I both know its
cold, certain direction toward death and decay—and
that is why, though clothed in spring’s attire, we hope

for more; even knowing little of its endless abundance.

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T.P. Bird
Poet & Designer

T.P. has been published in a number of literary journals, and is the author of two chapbooks: Scenes and Speculations & Mystery and Imperfection

Photography by Jonathan Marchal