I jumped up startled, trying to understand what year it was and where I was. Then I realized, it was 4:30 a.m. and my alarm was going off like most other days. I turned off the irksome thing, thinking to myself, Will I ever get used to this? I got in as much prayer as I could that early, leaving the rest for the evening. I put on my ebony uniform, brushed my teeth, pulled my hair up in a bun because who will see it under my hairnet anyway, grabbed my server apron and keys, and headed out.

In the beginning, I thought the drive was the best part. Serenity; no honks, barely any cars on the road, mostly green lights permitting me to glide through the town with ease. While I did not want this job, I sat there comparing the pros and cons between it and my previous one to give myself perspective. My last one was in line with my career, but I was sitting, collecting data, scheduling appointments, and taking nutrition surveys. It was a fun job in some ways, but due to covid, I worked from home, which got quite dull. However, at least it was “prestigious.”

I worked for a college during covid and refused to get the vaccine, so I was forced to quickly find a new job. I began working as a barista in a hotel. I considered this job to be a significant downgrade, but at least I had a job for the time being.

I pulled into the hotel parking lot and found a spot decently close, being mindful of the short but chilly walk. Once in, I had to prep, but first I needed the good-old trusty hair net. This is so humiliating. How have I stooped this low? I thought.

I had to drip three roasts of coffee, restock the drinks in the mini fridge, and put baked goods out for display. I remember scrambling every morning to be ready before 6:30 a.m., when the businessmen and women would come down for their lattes. Soon after I arrived, my manager, the cook, and my trusty co-barista would come in.

My co-worker was affected by autism. It took a while for us to become friends or to even understand each other properly. He would never look directly at the people he was speaking to and was very literal, often missing the intent of a joke or comment. Eventually, he would be showing me memes he had made and would open up a bit about his life. It appeared he did not have many friends, and I wondered why—he was very witty and had decent morals. I’ve known many high-functioning autistic people who made friends easily, but it sounded like a lot of the kids he went to school with were just plain mean and immature. His was a case of the square peg in a round hole, which is how I felt working there.

Promptly at 6:30 a.m., the wheels of the cafe began to chug. There were days when the line was extremely long, and we were sweating waterfalls. One of us was always either on the register or making lattes. The latter was my favorite part. I felt like a real artisan, using an espresso machine for the first time, milk-frothing, getting the milk-to-coffee ratios exact, and making the fancy designs on top. I also had to learn to carry food on a tray to tables, which was nerve-wracking at first.

I often thought about the people I was serving and wondered who they worked for. They were clad in business attire, their hair more nicely done up than mine, and had a lot of confidence. They made an impact on the world, and here I was, getting up before the crack of dawn, sporting a hairnet and serving them coffee. It struck my vanity. That should be me on the other end … I thought deep down.

When the chaos subsided, we resorted to creating new lattes for fun. My special this day was a chocolate-covered-strawberry latte. I was quite proud of my exquisite concoction, although my co-worker’s palate had a differing opinion.

Eventually, I realized I should know better than to stay glum here. I knew God had plans for me. He was using this to humble me, not to keep me here forever, so I decided to make the most of it. With time, I became less self-conscious of my netted headdress and occupation. I learned to serve tables with ease and a more positive attitude. I conversed with many interesting travelers and connected with the hotel staff. I learned a lot about the world, as one should if working at a hotel.

Soon, I realized that all my co-workers had a personal struggle. I remember chopping fruit with my manager one day as she told me about her son who died. She was a stern and strong woman that reminded me how tough it is out there, but she complimented me on my positivity. I asked God for help to smile more that early in the morning and for the courage to keep talking to her when she would have rather sulked. By the end of my three months there, she was hugging me goodbye, telling me what a delight I was. Now that I had found a better paying job, I realized I would miss this one.

Some weeks later I came back to pick up my last check and everyone was happy to see me. While my barista friend was catching me up on memes and college plans, I realized something unusual was happening—he was actually making eye contact. This is hard for many people with autism because it makes them uncomfortable, and he was never able to do this normally before. I realized that with God’s help, I was able to become his friend and someone he could trust.

I came home thinking, what was that job all about? God was using it to teach me some valuable lessons, but the main takeaway was this—I made a difference at a job that I thought was below me, and it brought me more joy than the distinguished job I had before. God was knocking down my vanity to show me what really brings us joy. Instead of standing on the other side of the counter, being served, I was serving, and I loved it! I became a friend to people who really needed to see God’s way of life in action. And the early mornings proved to be a real help in preparing me for Herbert W. Armstrong College!

Whenever you feel like you are too good for a job or an activity, think about what God may be trying to teach you about His divine love and humility. Consider how the circumstance may be your opportunity to let God’s light shine to others. God may be using you to bring more children into His Family! Jesus said that we “… are the light of the world … Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven” (Matthew 5:14, 16). With a calling like this, we’re not supposed to be on the receiving end; we should be honored to be on the other side of the counter where we can share God’s love with the world.