letters and lattes

I have been thinking a great deal about Hagar of late. The context for this is a little strange, I’ll admit, but bear with me (yes, I say that a lot). 

We are grateful to have wonderful cafes in our area. Including workers who take time to learn our name (more than some co-workers do!) and offer our children marshmallows (pink, please). We so often underestimate the gift of hospitality. If you work in hospitality: thank you. Don’t underestimate your gift and your contribution. The world is a lonely place and, for some, you might be the only human interaction they have in a day.¹ For others, the only positive interaction they’ll have all day.

One such hospo worker is a bright and hilarious barista named Sarah. Recently I had a day off (read: migraine hangover, I wasn’t spreading sickness, I promise!) and willed myself to the cafe for a latte and a dose of positivity. I would frequent the cafe in my child-carting part-time life, in this season my cafe-lingering is for weekends or, possibly, afterschool. 

Sarah greeted me warmly and said she was concerned she hadn’t seen me! (Obviously I frequented it a lot). I confessed, we had bought a coffee machine in the Boxing Day sales and full-time life meant more coffees at home. We joked through this retelling and she asked me what our coffee machine was named. 

“I wanted to call it Hagar,” I responded. “My husband’s not on board.”

Sarah laughed. 

I’m glad I did not have to explain the joke. 

If you grew up in the 90s or early 2000s and are named Sarah (that’s their iconic period, right?) and did a little bit of Sunday School, I’m sure you’re familiar with Hagar. 

Hagar was obedient.
She was powerless. 
She was cast aside.

There’s more to the story than that, but there’s the cliff notes. 

Hagar runs away, a super apt response to her situation – and the story could end there. But the most beautiful line arises – 

“For God heard you, God answers you.”²
And Hagar responds, “you’re the God who sees me!”³

This line gets me every time. 

God doesn’t take away her pain or remove her from a difficult situation. 

He says: I see you. 

And asks for her obedience. 

Like Hagar, I have found this a joyful answer to pray. And also, very difficult. 

My obedience = surrender

My obedience = laying down my preference 

My obedience = I’m not in control.

I did not realise, until I was quietly confronted with it, that control is a symptom of pride. Control keeps creating boundaries, borders and saying “I’m fine,” even when you’re not. Because if we admit we are not in control, if we surrender and let someone into the real us/ real life, that requires vulnerability. It is my least favourite word, dear readers, but I’m trying. 

I listened to this podcast which talked about three of my favourite things all at once: Christopher Nolan films, philosophy and theology. (What a dream! I will not apologise for not being relatable.) The end of their conversation focused on the protagonist of Inception (2010), Cobb. Cobb’s story demonstrates our struggle with control. Cobb keeps breaking all of his own rules, why? To maintain control. And what keeps happening? Things continue to go wrong (get worse, even). However, when Cobb lets someone in (vulnerability) and surrenders his control, realising he is not really in control anyway, what happens? The issues resolve. He is not passive in this resolution, but it only occurs by offering surrender, by being vulnerable and relinquishing his grip on control.⁴

I’ve also found when I’m desperate for answers or presence with God without responding to His call to obedience, I am met with this: silence. Really, God’s saying: I already told you. Unlike me to my five year old, he won’t tell me on repeat 300 times until I do the thing. 

He said what He said. 

Surrender is not fun. 
Nor is obedience
Every house cat knows that. 
But it grows on you. 

My vulnerability was a tightly wound coil, hidden under layers of soil and rot. With each step of obedience, of surrender, of letting go my need to control, it is becoming soft and pliable. As am I, in the best possible way. 

Other women I think of when it comes to obedience are Mary and Lot’s Wife. 

During Advent last year I read and reread The Magnificat. I poured over it. I was inspired by other writers.⁵ I wanted to understand something I did not yet grasp. I am awed by her obedience. By her grace. Her worship. I’m still learning what I’m trying to learn. 

I love the phrase ‘Salty Women’ and appreciate it can be misinterpreted. I like the double meaning:

Salty; attitude. 

Salty; salt of the earth, disciples, faithful. 

And of course, not to be confused with Lot’s Wife. Who, due to her disobedience, turned into a pillar of salt. And in a very Steinbeck⁶ move, remains unnamed, known only as the wife of Lot. 

On Saturday morning after I have made a coffee for my husband and myself, I say hello to Hagar. As I desesemble and clean her, I’m reminded of her witness. 

That God sees her. 
     God sees you.
         And me. 

And even as I struggle with control, surrender, obedience, I am not abandoned.

May you be encouraged, dear reader, that we have a God who sees, who hears and who answers. 

Go well 

Steph 

¹ It reminds me of the ‘talking’ registers some supermarkets are intentionally providing, recognising the need for social interaction and human connection.  See: https://thebetter.news/netherlands-chatting-checkout/ 

² Trust in God (ft. Chris Brown & Isaiah Templeton) (2023) by Elevation Worship. Listen/watch here: https://youtu.be/QS04WbSnxok?si=2hsGQk86l4j5oOzt 

³ Genesis 16:9-13 (MSG)

⁴ Fr. John Napil & Deacon Jacob Machado, “#570” CSYSKSYSC: Catholic Stuff and Art (podcast), March 16, 2023, accessed August 21, 2024, https://catholicstuffpodcast.com/podcast/2023/03/16/csysksysc-catholic-stuff-and-art.html (the next episode it linked was on “self-reliance.” My algorithm is working overtime!)

⁵ Hannah Brencher, Advent Day 8: “There’s Something About Mary” (Dec 8, 2024).  https://view.flodesk.com/emails/651ed89ff313ee72972e6ab3

⁶ John Steinbeck, Of Mice and Men (1937) thinking of course of “Curley’s Wife.”