Pumpkin Spice Latte

It is another cloudy day and my eyes are failing to open all the way. Autumn is closing in on us and the air seems to whisper, "curl up, go to sleep..." which is very tempting, but God is whispering something quite different to my heart.

Last Sunday, Nick stayed in to play with Delia while I went to Starbucks to enjoy a Pumpkin Spice Latte with God. After taking my first sip (utter delight!) and opening my journal and my Bible I suddenly realized that I had no plan for what I was going to read. Normally, I have some sort of guide or passage that I'm going to study and pray through, but today, nothing. So I looked across the table at the empty seat and sighed. "Ok God," I wrote in my journal, "I'm expecting you to speak to me through scripture, but you're also going to have to give me the scripture you want me to read."

Sometimes, in moments like this, I'm tempted to let the pages of The Good Book fall open and say, "This must be what you want me to read, God." But not today. It felt cheap to waste such a lovely moment filled with Pumpkin Spice. "I'll just sit here and drink my latte and wait for you. Ok?"

I stared around me at the people of Starbucks. The 2ish year old that kept passing by with her lollipop of marshmallows covered in white chocolate and sprinkles. The tired mother that followed her asking, "Do you really need to go to the toilet this time?" She must not have been sure, because she went by 2 more times as I waited for God to say something. Oh, lovely latte. Pumpkin anything is VERY rare here. The P.S. latte at Starbucks was introduced for the first time here last year as a trial. It turns out (Hallelujah) that the U.K. liked it enough to bring it back this year! However, they didn't advertise it at all. I had to go in and ask for it as though it were a black market item.

"My latte is gone, and you haven't given me a scripture yet." I wrote in my journal. And as quick as a cricket, God said clearly, "Psalm 24, 11 and 12" Great! I opened my Bible app (Yes, I have finally entered the age of the iPhone) "beep, bop, boop" there isn't a verse 11 or 12 in Psalm 24. I closed my Bible app. Awesome. "Thanks for nothing, God." Ok, I must have made that up in my head. I'll wait again. Marshmallow Lolli's older brother passes by with his wooden stir stick that has turned into a drumstick on every surface available. He stared at me as he passed. I smiled at him. He stared at me. How very British, I thought.

"Psalm 24, 11 and 12" came quite clearly again. Isn't that the same thing He said a few minutes ago when I thought I heard Him, but I must not have since that doesn't exist!? Opening my Bible app, I found that it was true. Psalm 24 only goes to verse 10. "I'll just read the whole of 24 then. Ok?" Good grief, God, you'd think you'd know your own book to know there isn't a verse 11 or 12 in Psalm 24. The words from verse 7-10 jumped off the page at me.

⁷ Lift up your heads, you gates;
    be lifted up, you ancient doors,
    that the King of glory may come in.
⁸ Who is this King of glory?
    The Lord strong and mighty,
    the Lord mighty in battle.
⁹ Lift up your heads, you gates;
    lift them up, you ancient doors,
    that the King of glory may come in.
¹⁰ Who is he, this King of glory?
    The Lord Almighty—
    he is the King of glory.

"What gates? What ancient doors?" I thought a minute. Well, maybe He means my eyes and heart or something poetic like that.

The night before, on the way home from a friend's birthday dinner, we passed by the ancient Roman wall that encircles Colchester Town Centre. We talked about how amazing it was that it was being built while Paul was still out preaching the good news. We then started talking about how old our home is. It was around before the Star Spangled Banner! That's pretty old for us American folk.

It shouldn't seem too surprising then that upon re-reading these verses, immediately the picture of the front of our house flashed into my mind. ("I know that you gave us our new, old home to use for the building of your kingdom. Father, please show me what to do and how to open our gate and our door to you...") The worn black gate at our entrance and the "ancient" blue door towering behind it...and then the worn silver '11' quietly resting upon our door. "Get to know number 12," He said clearly. I'll give you a second to think about this, (it took me a minute after he said this...)

Are the butterflies going in your stomach as they were and are in mine as I recall this conversation? Psalm 24, 11 and 12.
Needless to say, I went home to see if there was a number 12 in our building. Which there is. So, I made cupcakes and last night we knocked on all the doors of our neighbors introducing ourselves with our sweet offering of friendship. Only 2 of the 4 other flats' doors were answered and I think the man at the top flat who answered initially thought we were some kind of crazy (which my English friends warned me would happen if I did such a crazy thing as to knock on stranger's doors with cupcakes), but then he seemed to realize we're just Americans and that must be why. And I'm quite excited to report that, on Monday, number 12 is coming over.

"Thank you for your many blessings. You ARE God!"