Coffee, The Internet, and a Pair of Manolo Blahnik’s; Is there Anything Better?

The rush of the day, the passing of endless souls, brushing by in the speeding carriage’s of their lives.

A man with his chin so bent on getting where he is going, the very act of steering his car falls behind the plane of his perception. Speed and consideration of others are of no concern to him, only getting what he wants as soon as possible, at all costs.

A woman talks in silent screams as the two thousand pounds of speeding death hurls past children. In her mind slightly more important then the mascara she is trying to apply while looking in the rear view mirror, is the conversation with her friend, a tennis match exchange of words regarding last nights ridiculous excuse for a date, keeping the car straight steering with her knee tends to be a skill she wishes she could add to a resume.

Truck drivers half asleep, pushing exhaustion past the veils of half closed eyes, caffeine jolts to slap their tired cheeks. Thinking of anything, nothing, dreaming of times removed from the never ending blur of the roads vibrations. They have no idea the deadly force that rests just below every slumbering nod.

Overworked and under appreciated police officers, who only receive as accolade for a life risked, protecting the unknowing violator of yet another law designed for one purpose and that is to protect their very lives, the hard working police take on their chin the verbal abuse, or ridicule as she politely hands the ticket through the window. How many have said goodbye for the last time innocent children with a kiss in the morning just to be met with life last breath at the end of a gun only hours later.

A homeless man with another sign, another hand reaching for some mercy, some relief to the burden that weighs deep within his stomach. Seemingly invisible to the majority of people who pass by each day, funny how people will perform as if they don’t see Me, yet the very act of turning away throws out a perpetual blow to His heart; “They look away, obviously and revoltingly like I suffer from leprosy.” “Can they not even give a smile?”

How many homes do I pass on my way to my favorite coffee shop in the morning, how many shells of unfulfilled dreams peering out through the lifeless eyes of empty window panes? How many stories, how many sweet children, eyes full of life and wonder, longing for the very things I myself hunger for every morning as the light appears graciously back in my eyes. This thought doesn’t even penetrate the glass of my car anymore then the breath of many I speed by.

Finally arriving, park the car and hurry into line, the coffee aroma drawing me along, walking past the many souls transfixed into the mirror of their many conversations and computer screens.

Their hands and eyes wielding in synchronized procession across the tablets of their earthly sculptures, ever carving the moments of the life they manufacture for this day. Desperately attempting to feed the empty tin cup that lies just under the surface waters of vision.

Conversations a many, derived from the needs of a heart, desperate hungers of all earthly types being fed by the words and body language of those who eager to receive. Do they not see the hands outstretched longing for some bauble of satisfaction, waiting with tearful eye, desperately shaking in hopeful anticipation for a single morsel of bread.

The ridged posturing of a man in his crisp clean shirt, his tin cup being held out to the vast world in the great void of the screen that unfolds before his eyes, eagerly awaiting the tell tale sound of the metallic clanging of dropping coin.

A slender princess lounges on a leather chair, sipping coffee, and conversing with the other beautiful children sporting the latest Manolo Blahnik’s, never chancing a glimpse of the sheer dark loneliness that rests below the surface of her eye. Her eager words, bulging the very dam that holds back the true ideals her soul so desperately wishes to give. Words that plead; “see me!”

How many ten’s, hundred’s, maybe even thousand’s have I just casually walked past. Driving through lives, peoples of desperate concern and loneliness.

How many blind, that had no idea, Jesus Himself was even walking by, until He stopped and reached out a hand, until the supernatural actually made contact with the natural? Did they even have a slightest impression that the day was about to become brighter?

The Greatest man that ever lived was always giving, never needing to receive. But no did He not receive, for as a man who had never seen the light of a beautiful morning sky suddenly receives a gift more valuable then the entire worlds gold, does He not give praise in the form of undeniable thanks?

How many thousand’s just experiencing the nature of Christ’s gift on earth, the realization of the fact that the greatest ruler of all the universe, took time to walk by and glance their way, how would such an experience of just seeing His face change so many lives? How many loaves of bread are given with each smile?

How many tin cups, how many lonely hearts, how many aching stomach’s were filled with immediate satisfactory love?

The Great Man went and sat by a well, and when a strange woman approaches He asks her to get Him some water. The woman who was used to being ignored by a man such as Him, was surprised at the request, but more so by His retort; “If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that saith to thee, Give Me to drink; thou wouldest have asked of Him, and He would have given thee living water….but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst..”

Are we not called to give so?

And the servant of a Great Lord said to Him; “…I was afraid, and went and hid my gift in the earth away so nobody could see; there I kept for You what is Yours. His Lord answered and said unto him, Thou wicked and slothful servant…. You should have at least put My money into a basic use as I could have at least got interest, or a future payment… but now even the little I take from you and give to him who has done well.”

If its true, and I believe it is, that Christ lives in me, and the mere sight of Him can fill a heart with living water as to never thirst again, then how guilty am I for taking this most precious gift and burying it in a jar in the yard for nobody to see, and not even simple interest on this treasure was to be made. I can at the very least demonstrate His love with a smile or the glimmer of Him in my eye.

How many souls do I pass on my way to my favorite coffee in the morning, how many shells of unfulfilled dreams peering out through the lifeless eyes of empty lamps of the soul? How many stories, how many sweet children, eyes full of life and wonder, longing for the very things I myself hunger for every morning as the light appears graciously back in my eyes. This thought doesn’t even penetrate the constant noise of my blue tooth anymore then the breath of many I speed by.

By Peter Colla

“Dear Lord burn through me a desire to express You in my every word, smile and even look. Create in me a new You, allow me to bless instead of desiring to be blessed, grant me the ability to love, instead of just desiring to be loved, chisel and form more the likeness of You and less that of me. Give me the boldness to lift my eyes and see.”


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