We laughed around our circular white table in our Sunday clothes and felt very LA. High ceilings and gold ornate fixtures on bright, white walls made our brunch experience very Parisian. Our conversation was light and airy like the french bread served at the tables. Our server came over and joined our smiling laughter asking how we were all so cheery.

We greeted her with warm words, letting her know that she had gorgeous eyes. Because she did. But her aqua blue eyes against caramel colored skin were missing something: joy. She took our order and smiled as she walked away, but her eyes betrayed her heart.

My coworker noticed the same thing and said, I think we should talk to her. My Southern coworker is from Mississippi so she can darn near say anything with her accent and make anyone her instant BFF. When our server returned she chatted with her about her lovely eyes and their shared history of both being from Jackson, Mississippi… until I interrupted their Southern-Love-Fest with, So why are you here? Why’d you come to Los Angeles?

Growing up in LA my whole life allowed my clandestine question-behind-the-question to see if she’d share what was going on behind those beautiful aqua eyes. Let’s get real: this is LA, The City of Dreams! If someone thatΒ gorgeous is waiting tables at a posh spot on Grand Avenue, they’re an aspiring model, actress, dancer, or writer.

What am I doing here, she rhetorically asked. I don’t even know anymore.Β Her voice trailed off as she turned and walked away, but I heard it. I heard her fragile dreams crack into pieces.

Proverbs 18:21 says that there is life and death in the power of the tongue. I felt like I needed to tell her something specific, something that Someone was urging me to say. We all knew we had to do something, but we didn’t know what. Being one for words, I advocated we leave her a note. On the back of the receipt, I simply wrote:

Dear X*…

Thank you so much for a fabulous lunch! You were a wonderful server and we loved your recommendations.

We also want to tell you that we believe in your and your dreams. And so does Jesus. Don’t give up… He hasn’t forgotten about you or the plan for your life. We’re praying for you!

Love,
πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚ [one face for each of us]

I left her a big tip [because Christians are notorious for being bad tippers according to my waitress friends] and left Bottega Louie with a small prayer that the word spoken over her life was God-given.

I stopped for a quick moment to drool over the French pastries in the bakery before I left the restaurant. As I exited I saw a the back of woman who looked slightly familiar hugging my coworkers. As the woman turned around, I recognized her aqua-colored eyes filled with tears. I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know what to say! She fumbled over her words and wiped tears from her eyes.

We didn’t know what to tell her. But God did. David said, My heart is stirred by a noble theme as I recite verses for the king; my tongue is the pen of skillful writer [Psalm 45:1]. I’m not a skillful writer like David, but I believe there is power of life or death in our words. For the girl with aqua colored eyes, one God-given note may have been the strength she needed to rebuild her dreams.

*God knows her name… and that’s all that matters. πŸ˜‰

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