Community.

--- I wrote this a couple weeks ago. Obviously. I'm looking forward to our next trip to the coffee shop, whenever that may be. ---

Community.

I’m reading Out of Sorts by Sarah Bessey right now, and she talks about community as being an intimate thing. I don’t disagree, but I find her definition too limiting.

Every Saturday morning, our little family walks into Sidney and we go to our favourite coffee shop. We bring our own cups and almost always order the same things. The kids each get a cookie, I get a peanut butter crunch bar, and Karl gets a muffin. Decaf americano for me, and a dark roast for Karl. Then we sit outside on their patio and eat.

We skipped church on Sunday to go for our walk because we were out of our routine this weekend and did something different Saturday. The kids wanted to ride their bikes in the driveway instead, so I left them with Karl while I picked up our grocery order and stopped for coffee on the way home.

I gave them our order and handed over our cups. I made small talk with the barista who, a couple weeks ago, made my day by remembering my ordering as “Decaf….?” This is all I have ever wanted from life, someone to remember my coffee order and maybe even greet me by name when I go to order it. I have peaked.

As I was leaving, that same barista asked if I wanted to take any chocolate covered coffee beans home with me for the kids. He remembered. I’m not saying that made my day, but I will remember that moment every time I feel sad for the entire rest of my life.

So is community a small, intimate thing? Yes, but it’s also at that coffee shop we go to every week, where they’re learning our drinks, remembering our faces, and will someday be the godparents to our children.