It is well with my soul.

Every Thursday morning, I go to the Starbucks near my apartment on my way to work. Thursday is sort of my Friday because Friday is may day off, but Thursdays are also known to be one of the busier days around the office. So I pre-emptively reward myself by grabbing a tall soy latte in my Sojourners mug.

This particular Thursday morning has seemed like a good one from the get-go. It started with a phone call full of good news from a good friend last night, and then I actually got up when my first alarm went off (I can count on my hands the number of times this has happened); my parents are here; I'm wearing clothes I really like; the sun is shining; it's almost Christmas; you know, all those really important things.

Upon entering Starbucks, there was a guy in front of me who I thought was going to put a damper on my so far awesome morning. He was looking at text messages to get orders for like five different people and they were all stereotypically complicated. (Seriously, though. One asked for 1.5 inches of room for cream -- no joke.) But then a second register opened up and I no longer had to wait! But then it was a new employee's first transaction. Fortunately, I am actually a great person for this to happen to, because I just smiled and said, "no worries!" when he forgot his employee number, struggled to punch all the right buttons, and fumbled with putting those little post-its on my cups. It's probably overwhelming to be at your first shift at the Starbucks register just before 9am on a wintry workday.

And though this might have been enough for me to say, "What a great Thursday!" already, it kept getting better!

As I waited for my drinks (behind the guy waiting for five) we both noticed that the barista was singing "It is Well With My Soul" to himself, never mind the glitzy Christmas music pumping through the sound system. I smiled to myself and tweeted about it, because I thought that was going to be the best thing that happened during my eight minutes in Starbucks. Then the hymn-singing barista asked the guy waiting for the five drinks who they were all for. It turns out he was taking them to his wife and her fellow teachers at a nearby elementary school -- today's their last day before break, and it'll be a doozy, he said. What a week to be an elementary school teacher. I take back the things I assumed about that 1.5-inches for cream person. I'm sure he/she is a fantastic educator.

Following this exchange, the guy with the five drinks asked the barista if he knew the origins of the song he was singing. The barista replied with something about a shipwreck and the songwriter keeping faith even when he'd lost his family. (I googled it when I got to work and that's basically the story. I had no idea!) He then says, "I hope I never lose my family that way." Five drinks guy says, "I hope I never lose my family."

Suddenly, it's not such a light-hearted exchange.

Then, as he puts my soy latte in my Sojourners mug on the bar, he comments that he loves Jim Wallis. "Like Jim, I'm just trying to stick to some principles in a pretty corrupt world, you know?" I didn't really know what to say -- this same barista has probably made me 15 lattes in this same mug and never once said anything about it. Fortunately, five drinks guy asked the barista if he got Sojourners' newsletter in his email. He does. Five drinks guy and I think this is just great.

As I'm putting the lid on my latte, the woman waiting next to me comments on the totally cool engineering of my mug -- it has a lid that just snaps in instead of screwing on and it's a mug that looks like a mug, not just some stainless steel cylinder thing. I don't think it's remarkable, per se, but I do love it.

She then asks where I got it -- I explain that it's from Sojourners -- a progressive, social-justice-centered Christian organization. Then five drinks guy asks me if I get the newsletter [at which point I'm thinking, I have this mug dude. I'm probably a Jim Wallis groupie] and I say that I do and that I get the sermon prep materials. "Oh, you're a pastor? My mom's a Presbyterian minister!" the mug-engineering-fan lady says. I smile and tell them I serve at Holy Trinity Lutheran over on Caley and Lakeview. They think that's just great. The man she's with takes a photo of the Sojourners logo on my mug so he can go on the website and check it out.

We all have our drinks in hand now. Well, five drinks guy has his in one of those carry things. We all smile. We have no further reason to be standing in the way of the now almost-out-the-door line of patrons. I say, "Have a great day, y'all!" and head out the door, still kind of in disbelief that this whole exchange just took place.

Thanks, Jim Wallis, for making this a great day to be alive.

All other ground is sinking sand.

When I moved to Colorado two months ago (WHAT), one of the first things I did was find the nearest independent coffee shop. I love me some Starbucks, don't get me wrong. I go there on the way to work two or three days a week, which is very embarrassing, especially because I own a coffee maker. But when it comes to sitting for 5 hours in a coffee shop, reading, writing, working, blogging, meeting with parishioners, etc., I prefer something with a little more local flair.

I found my cozy local place in an establishment called Solid Grounds, which I patronize each Wednesday afternoon and occasional other weekday mornings for aforementioned parishioner meetings. We also bring the senior high school kids here every third Sunday morning for coffee and conversation. [I say "here" because I am in my usual chair as I type this. It's Wednesday afternoon, after all!]

When I first found Solid Grounds on yelp, I looked at the photographs of its vast living-room-style space, and thought "Ooh, this could be my new Cafe Yesterday." It's missing Bob Dylan records and the hummus platter and the occasional happy hour pint with Maria, but I'll take what I can get. The yelp reviews warned me, though, that this place was run by Christians and they may "talk about Jesus" with you.

OH NO, NOT JESUS!

I've been here each week for seven straight weeks now, and so far, no employee has talked to me about Jesus. I often eavesdrop on other patrons who are having prayer meetings or Bible studies or talking about Jesus, because apparently this is the place to do that. Last week, though, there were three dudes at a table near me who were having a rather spirited conversation about "Liberal Christians" versus whatever kind of Christians they'd call themselves, and two of them even went so far as to try to convince the third that "Mormons believe closer to what we do that Liberal Christians do." I think I smirked or scoffed or something'd at this, because they dropped their conversation to nearly a whisper after that.

A little while later, as they were leaving, one of them remarked that he saw a disconnect between the cross around my neck and the "I Stand With Planned Parenthood" sticker on my laptop. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, and, rather, explained that my responsibility as a Christian was not to shame other women for the choices they are faced with, but rather to make sure they are cared for, loved, and given the medical treatment they need. I told him that I see no conflict between my Christianity and my fight for freedom of choice. He shook his head and walked away.

That's the only time anyone has spoken directly to me about Jesus in this coffee shop. I shared this experience with my intern supervisor, and he expressed concern about how often I come here. Apparently, this place is a ministry of a church down the street that does not, shall we say, share the same views of "All Are Welcome" that I might demand. He even expressed reservations about the once-monthly trip here with the high school youth. Solid Grounds has a location in the Denver Seminary, which is affiliated with the National Association of Evangelicals.

The question comes down to the fact that I would not donate regularly to a Fundamentalist Evangelical Christian organization, so why do I do it via coffee? Do I love the couches and lattes enough to ignore where my dollars are going? I'm so vocal about "voting with your dollars" in all other arenas -- have I stopped taking my own advice?

The solution I've come to is that, each month, I'll tally up how many dollars I spent here at Solid Grounds (because a solution that excludes coming here doesn't really work for me), and I'll donate the same amount (rounded to the nearest $5) to ELCA Advocacy.

I just needed to put that in writing so that I could be held accountable to my acknowledgment of the downside to my love of Solid Grounds, and held accountable to my commitment to counter the funding of their programs I'm doing. This may seem silly to you, but I don't really care about that, frankly. And it will benefit ELCA Advocacy, which is always a great thing.

I think church-run coffee shops are a great idea. In fact, my beloved Cafe Yesterday is a non-profit run by a rad former Wesleyan, who gives their proceeds to help the homeless in Berkeley. A few years ago at an Emergent Church conference thing I went to in Seattle, we visit a place called Holy Grounds, I think, that was the home of a forming ministry. These were cool places. And Solid Grounds is a cool place! I like the ambiance so much that I just can't give it up. But I have to have some integrity in where my dollars go, especially when it comes to funding ministry.

On Christ the solid rock I stand; all other ground is sinking sand.