I haven’t always been a Starbuck’s fan but in the last year or so have grown more accustomed to hanging out there and having an occasional meeting there. It’s only two blocks down the street from the church so it’s a convenient alternative location to meet with people from the church. While working on my IWU school work, reading, etc., I have found it also a good change of pace to study. Over the last few months, I’ll often start my work day there in the morning. What I’ve found is the same people come in nearly everyday. While hanging out working on my MacBook, I met a lady named Jane that struck up a conversation by asking a question about her newest purchase — a MacBook Pro that looked just like mine. She asked if mine was an i5 or i7 processor.

Well, honestly, I’m a HUGE (and I mean HUGE) Apple fan, but I had no clue what type of chip this bad boy had, but I knew how to find out. After a couple of minutes of reading the info found under About this Mac, I found that we both had the i7. Our bond was immediately formed thanks to Steve Jobs. What I didn’t know was this was just the beginning of an emerging relationship.

Everyday, Jane and her mom come into Starbucks to get coffee and a breakfast sandwich while meeting up with the locals. I’ll often look over and see them laughing and chatting with someone while engaged in some game of cards. Everyday, we’ll share our “good mornings” with a few other small talk conversations. One day Jane came in to share that she had purchased an accessory for her MacBook — a Samsung monitor for a mere $149 on sale at Costco. She was thrilled to share her story with me. All was great until the next week she came back and said, “I need you to come over and fix my MacBook.” Long story made short, she couldn’t get the monitor and the MacBook to play nice together. My rapid response to her request was, “Ok.” She paused in stunned silence and said, “Seriously!” I responded back with, “I know.” Before I knew it, I was following her to her home a few minutes from the Starbucks.

After a few minutes of researching the situation and a Google search to find some answers, I fixed her MacBook wos and my job was done. At least I thought it was done. As an artist, photographer, and interior designer, she was happy to show me her home including framed photos and paintings. In the process of the tour, I had the opportunity to see some of her late husbands paintings as well. I thought to myself, “She’s way too young to have a ‘late husband.'” When we approached the last room of her home on the tour, she began to share her life story. Within a few moments, she was pouring out her heart about the loss of her husband in their home in Arizona. The abridged version is that she came home one day to find him lying on the floor murdered as the result of mid-day home invasion. The murderer was never found, and she never spent another night in that house.

That was nine years ago, and I could see the pain on her face as if it were yesterday. In that moment, I realized that I was in the midst of a divine encounter — one that would never have happened had I stayed locked away working away on my computer in the office down the street. I didn’t pray for her. I didn’t tell her about Jesus. I didn’t offer her some false comfort in a moment of religious platitudes. I simply listened to a lonely woman share her story.

What I realized that day is there is a world full of Janes. Previous to this encounter, I was stuck in the “big box” of church. However, that day I was out. I have since determined to live my life outside of that box so that people might see Jesus on the streets and not have to walk into the big box to find him. People, it’s time to get out of the big box.