199 S Turnpike Rd

199 S Turnpike Rd. Lighthouse Coffee. This is the address of one of my favorite coffee shops (at least at the moment). I've been told by several friends and "self-proclaimed coffee connoisseurs" that their coffee is average, but who really goes to coffee shops to enjoy the actual coffee? Not me. That has never has been me. Someone once said they like to live a "nomadic lifestyle" when it comes to studying and I've never agreed with a statement more. Ever since I got my license at the ripe age of 16, I don't think I've ever studied at home. My desk in my college apartment consists a clear, acrylic pencil case drawer that I barely open, a half-empty tissue box, a fully used up jasmine candle from Target, and a "beach"-fragranced spray mist that's marketed as a stress reliever (ironic because I can literally smell the salty ocean air from my window). I don't think my desk has ever been privy to my study sessions, only my "listening to music and getting ready for the day" sessions.

I think about why this is and I don't know. Sitting in a coffee shop, listening to the slightly distracting ambient noise of the espresso machine steaming, hearing the upbeat music on the built in speakers of the building, and trying not to eavesdrop on the surrounding conversations of customers next to me, it's as if my mind has suddenly opened and aligned itself to the infinite concepts of organic chemistry, or whatever subject I happen to be studying that day. Maybe it's the boost of caffeine that jolts my mind to focus. Or maybe it's the motivation of not wanting to waste the $5 or $6 I spent on the matcha latte. Or maybe it's just the act of "going" to study and the separation of work and play. Maybe it's all of the above.

But, as I reflect on this super, very important concept more (this is sarcasm by the way), I realize it stems from my time in high school. My desire to be out of my home and away from family as much as possible. To avoid the shouts and arguments of parents or the reminders of what real life was. I was so keen on the idea of portraying myself as the type of person - the type of student - who had their life together. I wanted to be that hard-working, "mysterious" person with headphones on (very important detail) who seems to have an untouchable future. Working in a coffee shop surrounded by strangers who didn't know me - who didn't know about my parent's affair and divorce, or my brother's condition, or the thoughts of self-hatred and insecurities that crossed my mind typical of a 16 year old girl - gave me a false sense of validation of just that. A part of me still desires this: to be seen as put-together and perfect (well, at least as much as a college student can be).

But, this is when I am reminded that I don't have to be perfect - when I am reminded of the mercy and grace that's been poured over me. This is when I am reminded that I am fully known by my Creator. . . and more importantly, fully loved, despite all my flaws. This is when I am reminded that I am God's child.

There's a quote by Timothy Keller that I think about again and again that catches a glimpse of just how beautiful this is.

"To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God. It is what we need more than anything.”

So, every time I step into a coffee shop and order my go-to iced matcha latte, I remember the sacrifice that Jesus did on the cross and continue to live my life in remembrance of that. Of course, I'm nowhere near perfect, but hopefully sanctification will come. . .one matcha latte at a time.