Strangers at the Table

Sometimes I sit in Turl Street Kitchen with a stranger, at my favourite big wooden plank table on a lovely, quiet morning, and the stranger today is a handsome guy drinking espresso and reading Brideshead Revisited (a really good book by Evelyn Waugh). And when I sit at this wooden table, I think of all the possibilities that life has. There are so many wonderful ways in which the world works. God places pieces of the puzzle all around in His beautiful places and I only imagine that He delights in us when we fit those lovely pieces together.

Sharing tables with strangers is a daily (twice daily at least) occasion for me in Oxford. These are the instances in which I have discovered some delightful people to talk with. These are the times that challenge me in several ways. Many times my eyes are fixed on pages of my book, but often I am observing others or even talking with strangers. Or simply sharing a table, a time, a space.

I would pull out my book to read (and I will in a few minutes), but my mind has all these romanticized notions of coffee shop meetings. People meeting friends, family, or colleagues. People coming alone. People here to read.  People here to revise essays. Visitors and tour groups walk by on Turl Street, armed with cameras and warm jackets for the outside walks around the various colleges.

I look out the window and if I lean a little toward the window, I can see the top of Exeter College Chapel, a tall, striking emblem of God's majestic beauty reaching toward the heavens.

My mind is awake this morning. This room in Turl Street Kitchen is one of my favourite spots in the city. There is something about the atmosphere, the songs they play, the quiet chatter, the sounds of coffee being made, and plenty of reading and writing vibes. The sunlight reaches in through the tall, large windows and the dark wood plank floors creak when you step.

Oxford is bursting with the beautiful possibilities of the everyday. I've met some kind people, who have made my stay even more pleasant than it already was. If you scanned my journal, you would see a log of repeated words: delight, lovely, beautiful. These are words that belong in Oxford.