The Power of the PSL: Part Two

A few weeks ago, I published an article about the joys of the Pumpkin Spice Latte and falling in love. But, like the dregs at the bottom of my red Holiday Starbucks cup, that love came to a bittersweet end, and I was forced to toss the cup and move on to better things.

I may have moved on from my heart's autumn escapades, but in a time of reflection, as I can almost feel the pumpkin-y steam from a fresh latte tickling my october-chilled face, I know that those whirlwind fall months changed me in ways that I may not have wanted, but certainly needed.

I learned how to fall in love after being hurt for so many years. And when love itself fell, I learned how to forgive. I learned that my person is not my personality, that my likes and dislikes, my passions, my accomplishments and rewards, my goals, my past, and my future compose, while important, only a part of me. I have depth. I am more than what I ever could see before.

Most importantly, I changed from a girl whose flaws lurked like monsters under the bed of her perfection, afraid that her value was as ethereal as the steam from her beloved coffee, to a woman whose value resides not in her past mistakes, or present successes, or projected perfection, or in the acceptance of others, but in everything beautiful God has handcrafted her to become.

A woman who has found true joy.

And I can face the coming months, cold and uncertain as they may lurk, with the confidence that in the end, everything really will work out for God's most beautiful good.

After all, it's Gingerbread Latte season.

The Power of the PSL

I'd like to think of myself as a coffee connoisseur, but for the sake of sounding humble, you can call me a coffee snob. And I go crazy for this time of year. Why?

Pumpkin spice lattes.

If the current season is fall and you reside in the great United States of America, you, no doubt, have seen at least one coffee shop promote this coffee as the must-drink of the next few months. Every coffee shop and even fast food restaurant has come up with some variation of the seasonal beverage--and I've tried most. Some are much too cloyingly sweet, so half of the drink (can you even call it a drink if it has the viscosity of maple syrup? Yuck.) gets poured down the drain. Some PSLs have been grievously mishandled by an impostor barista who is obviously unaware that it is possible to burn coffee--a fairly normal occurrence in my coffee-ordering adventures that just makes me sad. But I live for the perfect PSL: really well-prepared, rich espresso (which is NOT pronounced "ex-presso", by the way. Gosh.) mixed with just the right amount of frothy milk, with a taste that can't help but remind you of falling leaves and all the wonderful things about the season: pumpkin, cinnamon, cloves, allspice. It's like an oversized man-sweater for your mouth. I've been drinking pumpkin spice lattes for years and I would be thrilled if a coffee place (I'm looking at you, Starbucks) would cater to my every whim and keep them on the menu year-round. Yes, you could say I've fallen in love with the PSL.

But lately, I've discovered that the pumpkin spice latte has a much closer connection to my heart that I had ever realized (Is this sounding creepy? Sorry. Just hear me out.). Because this fall, as I've gone to Starbucks to celebrate the season, I've fallen in love over the PSL.

Here at college, I've found people who love coffee just as much as I do. And as I've explored the local coffee bars with one person, each time ordering my beloved fall concoction, I've noticed that my trips have become less and less about the coffee I love so much and more and more about the person ordering coffee right next to me. Stories shared over my frothy espresso and his fresh-brewed exotic blend have made these times so enjoyable and genuinely the best parts of my week. I look forward to these "coffee breaks" for so much more than the coffee. It's like the PSL has infected my whole lifestyle; now I understand why the coffee shop has become such a integral part of American society. I get the connection over coffee, and I crave it just as much as I crave my beloved sweetly-spiced lattes.

So I salute thee, PSL. I've loved you and you've shown me love in return. You're my weakness, and I hope that you--and him--are a much cherished part of the brisk nights to come. Stay beautiful, my friend.

Because you are love, and love is a beautiful thing.