Confession - I love Starbucks.
I love iced coffees and caramel frappuccinos so much, I'd consider matrimony. If the coffee were a man...or at least had arms.
I like to snuggle.
Anyway, as a single woman, I take all the creature comforts I can get, and Starbucks has been a faithful (albeit expensive) friend these past 5 years. My loyalty is proven by my bank statement and the fact that most of the cashiers know my drink. That, my friends, is like when a cute guy you thought had no idea you existed says your name. I remember the first time it happened like it was yesterday, I smiled from ear to ear, I got a little flippy in the tummy and hummed all the way to work. Later, I wrote about it in my journal. Well...not really...but it was a special moment, nonetheless.
Its sorta sad to think that the last time I had a flippy tummy, "he said my name" moment with a man and not a caffeinated beverage was in college. His name was Thomas and, oh my, did I have it bad...like stalker bad! We'd been in several classes together and, though he was extremely shy and walked sorta hunched over ( no doubt from hours and hours of studying in the library), I just thought he was the best thing ever. I wanted to have his half Asian, nerdy babies.
Proverbs 16:9 says: The heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps. The Lord has had to redirect my plans regarding men a lot over the years and though, in the moment, it's been hard...at times REALLY hard...in the end what I feel most is relief. Oh, and also really, really silly. Regardless, after the Lord's establishing redirects my steps, there are no regrets. The exact "whys" aren't always revealed, but it is always evident that it was indeed God working out His best.
Thomas is one example. I literally stalked this poor boy and all he wanted to do was read his text books in peace. But there are many other guys who's babies I didn't have. The most recent example played out almost entirely over e-mail, across three states and was with someone I met once and spoke to in person a grand total of 20 minutes. I wanted this man's babies most of all, even though he was a Yankee and liked hockey. I wanted his babies more than Al's Hispanic, muscle-shirted babies, or David's tall, dark and athletic babies, or even Thomas' babies. I prayed so hard and so long, but in the end God said no. And, though the "no" was about as unpleasant and unwelcome as a day without Starbucks, God's wisdom was plain. Each "no" was his best for me and them.
I could sing a Garth Brook's song right now...but I won't.