The French Café tells us we can frequent Parisian coffee shops of our choice, perhaps because of “the landlord’s personality, the clientele, the ambience, or the décor.” In a rural setting we are told the décor of old country cafes is frugal, but that, “they often create their own atmosphere of romance and poetry with a remarkable economy of means.”
There is something particularly satisfying about creating our “own atmosphere of romance and poetry with a remarkable economy of means.” You don’t need a new French Press to make coffee. Indeed you can brew a satisfactory cup boiling it on the stovetop!
One of the best cups of coffee I’ve ever tasted was cheapo store brand coffee steaming hot out of a thermos. I was in the back seat of my husband John’s truck, it was very cold outside, we were crossing a high mountain pass. John was driving, my brother in the front seat with him, and my beloved, beloved sister-in-law sat beside me. My sister-in-law is steady, to be depended upon to keep up her end of the positivity bargain at all times. I’ve been sharing meals with Liz since the seventh grade, and she hasn’t failed yet to be good and pleasant company, the kind of company that makes a meal a feast, in fact.
The flavor is enhanced by the setting and the company, so let’s all be sure we’re good company!
I was with good company last week driving with my daughter Rebekah and friend Pam when we got on that subject: politics–the fraudulent elections, disappointments being handed out by the Supreme Court (only Justice Thomas does not disappoint), traitors in Congress, small business woes, etc. Pam reached over and touched my arm. “I’m sorry,” she said, “for ranting about all that.”
But because she was ending all of it with her trust in God, with quoting and reminding us all of Psalm 37, with seeing all the good that is coming out of the bad (and there’s lots of it, especially in that Christians are humbly remembering who their Savior is), it wasn’t a rant. It was an air clearing and mutual exhortation among good company.
Keeping our eyes lifted doesn’t mean we don’t know what’s happening, or that we aren’t doing something about it. It just means we’re looking to our only hope. We’re keeping good company with good company.
Let’s enjoy life a little, and let me say it you and to myself again–let’s be good company.