(Redemptive narrative is a lot like falling in love)

Dreaming about this. 

An Ode to Story

Sometimes you are here with me, and I dream you up out of my conscious mind, as if the gears are turning to put together old bones. Nothing makes sense until it does, and then we're flying, together, promising never to leave anything behind. And sometimes you return slowly, seamlessly making yourself known beyond the sleep and hum of everyday life. 

I meet you in other worlds, in other people, in the eyes of my dog and I can't quite place you until I'm in this closed off space — alone. You steal what's left but it doesn't feel like stealing; it feels sweet and worthy because you remember the good with the hurt. You weave together what's forgotten and moments that make us hollow or whole. 

You are a time traveler who revisits our dying days and our vibrant ones, and you make it easier to sleep when we don't know the difference. Sometimes you are stubborn and I cannot recall your words. But you always forgive and you always tell the truth. You are resilient. You make it all worth living even when it's not or even when it feels too far away to tell, because that's how narrative begins and that's how it will always end. 

You spin together splendor behind what our eyes can see, and it points to one rich truth, one ruthlessly magnificent detail in which planets and atoms revolve around. You are the sound of the bells I follow that lead to redemption. With eyes open or closed, you unfold it all.

Love for the East End Market

One of my favorite discoveries since our move to Orlando has been the East End Market in Audubon Park -- a neighborhood market and cultural food hub inspired by Central Florida's local farmers and food artisans. Not only does the East End Market serve as a place of commerce, it also serves as a thriving community dedicated to educating local Floridians on how to engage with the food system, the local economy and how to better understand the significance of their relationship with food. 

The independently-owned businesses also make great use out of the working market garden, cultivating not only the local food and culture, but a shared space for creativity and collaboration.The Audubon Park Garden District of Orlando is certainly a hoppin' place, full of incredible entrepreneurs, tradespeople, artists and chefs. Aaron and I are crushing hard on this place and its vision to flourish a vibrant food culture as the center of community life. 

When we visited for the first time, we were thrilled to try Lineage, a fairly new roasting company aiming to change the world of craft coffee, one cup at a time. Their coffee was EXCELLENT; I've had dreams about it ever since. (Those natural blueberry flavors, gah!) But really, if you are ever in the neighborhood and don't stop for a dreamy pour over, you should be slapped silly -- it's that good. 

We also had fun dabbling in Porch Therapy, a lovely biz that sells decorative plants among other sweet finds, and we ended up buying a beautiful succulent plant (what else?) that looks like it was made for our book shelf. All in all, it was a successful trip to the Market -- although, I am not walking out of there again without some cheese and wine, that is for sure. 

Dreams of Pinehurst

Today, I look outside of my sister's house and see leaves covering the ground, crisp North Carolina air and a fresh cup of coffee in my hands. I am flooded with blessings, and my heart is full because I know just how rich it is to be given plenty of time to rest and count quiet days. Two sleepy dogs rest beside me, and I know in this moment that He is faithful even when I am not. 

It's a strange feeling to be given so much free time, to be honest. It feels a little awkward, but in the best way. I'm not embarrassed to tell you I spent about five minutes this morning listening to early Jazz and dancing in my pajamas facing Hannah's sliding glass door. I couldn't stop those dogs' tails from wagging even if I wanted to; I think they liked that I looked like I was going a little bit crazy. 

A few days ago I decided that I needed to scale back my full-time job to a part-time gig for a few reasons. It was difficult and I didn't want to admit that I needed this, but I definitely did and I'm so glad this transition is happening. I'm already beginning to sense fear of the unknown surfacing a little bit, but I think it's good for me. The timing is perfect too; I am currently in Pinehurst with my sister this week and will be in Charlotte next week to see our sweet nephew, Ezra James, for the first time. We are beyond blessed and cannot wait to snuggle baby E with lots of love! I was a little nervous about all of our traveling in November and December, but - thankfully - I think it's going to be more low-key than I anticipated. 

It's strange being in Pinehurst. When I walk past a street sign I get flashbacks of swimming pools that aren't there anymore, trick-or-treating in dark streets, selling the newspaper on the corner of my dad's office and eating messy ice cream cones (unsuccessfully, because of my rubber band braces). It's astounding to think about the years I spent here and how the smallest moments can come flooding back to your mind. There are new traffic circles, buildings and restaurants, and in a way, I feel like a time traveler. All of this nostalgia makes me feel warm and a little sad at the same time. 

More than anything though, I am reminded that I had a pretty damn good childhood. I think the reason it's so surreal to be back here is because my parents moved when I was in college, and I really haven't been back much since. Pinehurst will forever be like this strange, far away dream for me... but I think of it fondly. :) Anyway, I hope your week is full of rest, a little bit of pajama-dancing and recognizing the rich blessings in your life. 

Coffee Dreaming

I've had coffee on the mind recently. Obviously it's my first thought in the morning and a source of inspiration for poetry written on napkins. But sometimes it's more than that -- it stirs the familiar and makes music sound better; it is the taste and smell that life is being lived here. And sometimes, it teaches us more than life, stirring a spirit-led life, drawing community and grinding out the fear. Coffee brews while we prepare our hearts, it wakes us up -- in more ways than one. And sometimes, coffee is just for tasting; it is about learning to taste the bitter with the sweet. 

We've been waking up with a sweet aroma around here and we attribute those mornings to Aaron's new obsession with the AeroPress. If you have not heard about this goodness, it's like a French Press on steroids -- and you need one. 

The AeroPress is amazing because a.) It makes really good coffee, b.) it provides even, full extraction of the coffee grounds, c.) it's more flavorful than your average coffee pot because of reasons mentioned above, d.) it's portable, e.) it's easy to clean and f.) It's fun! 

It's worth noting that people will sometimes measure out specific grams of coffee beans and the temperature of the water, but we're not that fancy because we don't have all the equipment. But I assure you, it makes a mighty good cup. 

How to Use This Coffee Goodness: 

1. Get the water boiling while you grind up the coffee beans.

2. Grind the coffee beans up to the two-point mark on the grinder in the Hario Mini Mill. 

3. Set up the AeroPress using the inverted method.

4. Pour your grounds in, y'all. 

5. Pour enough water, slowly, to get all the grounds wet and stir them up.

6. Continue pouring until almost full. Aaron typically stops along the one-point mark.

7. Give it another quick stir.

8. Let it sit for a little over a minute to let the grounds steep in the water.

9. Take in that beautiful light brown color that emerges. No really, take it in. This is A's favorite part. 

10. Put the paper filter in the filter cap, lock it into place and when the time is right, flip it and give it a nice firm, slow press into your mug of choice. 

For those who like an espresso strength, drink as is. For those who want a regular cup of joe, add water to your liking. And then take off your filter cap and plunge your used grounds into your compost. 

Don't compost? :) That's okay. You can start today. See! Look! Coffee! It's changing the world!

750 Words: Week 2

It may have been the emotion in that room or the fact that it was so hot that I couldn't easily breathe, but I remember feeling absolutely connected. We all sat around a room in the University Commons area with plastic chairs. There was a refreshments table and a dusty piano in the corner, and various people sitting unsettled up front in a row of chairs. An old man with white hair and a thick mustache introduced each person before they spoke to read their poems, short stories, and selections from their novels. An older, heavy set woman stood up, walking to the podium.

"A memoir is a mixture of the heart," she said. "It is very much like praying. I will share with you some of my prayers, some of my longings. I will show you secrets behind closed doors and better sides of me, and I will show you what hurts."

I don't remember her prayers - the pieces of her memoir that she read out loud to us. But in the moment that she showed us her honest heart, I was undone. I felt the power of her words flood over me, and I knew it was what we all should do - share our prayers, joy, pain, stories. I thought, I have to write memoir moments somehow, because this has changed me. 

                             -----------------------

Coffee talks. It talks of old spiral notebooks passed between friends, games of scrabble and games of eavesdropping (only for the strange ones). For the writer, coffee seems to be included in the life package. Rings of coffee are married to paper and napkin-poems. It is what we drink to gain inspiration, because coffee holds worlds in itself. It is a world for the lost, the traveler brought in by the rains, the old man reading to his wife, the boy and the girl blushing at hands that touch... coffee - with metal, clinking spoons, and packets of sugar, with frothy milk and the sound of pen on paper to perhaps remind us how they go together - and the writer, drinking coffee to remember the girl who broke up with the boy two tables over and the man in the business suit who passes out roses to women sitting alone. Coffee stirs the familiar, it makes music sound better, it makes our teeth yellow and our eyes older. 'Drinking a cup of coffee' will be how I start all those stories with my grand-kids  it will be the brewing sound in the middle of the night when we gather around a table after someone close has died, it is what I dream about and the aroma I wake to, it is the taste and smell that tells us that life is being lived here.

"Perfectionism means that you try desperately not to leave so much mess to clean up. But clutter and mess show us that life is being lived. Clutter is wonderfully fertile ground -- you can still discover new treasures under all those piles, clean things up, edit things out, fix things, get a grip. Tidiness suggests that something is as good as it's going to get. Tidiness makes me think of held breath of suspended animation, while writing needs to breathe and move." -- Anne Lamott

As writers, we have to push past the fear of perfectionism and just write. If we want to become better writers, we must practice writing the kind of fiction or nonfiction we want to write. The idea behind 750 words comes from a book called The Artist's Way and the use of morning pages. Morning pages are stream of consciousness writing to exercise creativity and teach you to get in the habit of writing at least three pages a day.The idea is to clear your mind, allowing for a free flow of ideas for the rest of the day and to free yourself from getting stuck on editing or anything else that may stifle creativity.This writing is a great tool against writer's block, but I struggle with writing a quick draft and clicking publish. That's why every Wednesday, I post at least one (part or whole) of my 750 word writing exercises from my week. I am currently using writing prompts from Natalie Goldberg's book, Old Friend from Far Away: The Practice of Writing Memoir. I would love for you to join me! Feel free to grab the image below and post a link of your own 750 word exercise posts in the comments. Click here to see all 750 word posts.

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Why I think a cup of Coffee can stir a spirit-filled life

 Why I think a cup of coffee can stir a spirit-filled life

What is it about drinking coffee in our culture that truly brings people together? So many of the conversations of our relationships seem to go like this: 

Need to talk? Let's grab a cup of coffee..

Having a bad day? Let's grab a cup of coffee..

Want to get to know me? Let's grab a cup of coffee..

Need some time to slow down? Let's grab a cup of coffee..

and so on and so on. When it comes to social media, everywhere I turn I see a bible near a coffee mug, I read Christian blogs encouraging readers to "grab a cup of coffee and stay a while" or writers describing the "freshly brewed life"  or how to "keep faith hot and fresh in the every day grind" and "serving up shots of spirit led encouragement" and "your daily cup" and "cup of comfort" and being a part of a group of "freshly blended women of faith sharing the aroma of Christ."

Maybe it's because I was a barista and love everything about coffee and the skill and art of creating different coffee drinks, but I think there is something more that strongly correlates to the art of walking by faith and the process of grinding out our lives to produce a cup overflowing. Moving to a new city is like an invitation to drink coffee endlessly with people you don't know but want to get to know by "grabbing a cup of coffee." Trust me friends, this "coffee theme" runs deeply in my current stage of life.

Here are three ways I believe coffee can stir a spirit-filled life:

1. drinking a cup of coffee can translate to a warm invitation or welcome to a conversational atmosphere, drawing in a time of fellowship. It also draws in a time of reflection and quiet.

2. The majority of people who grab a cup of coffee are relational and listeners. Coffee lovers love coffee shops because of the conversation and the sounds that fill the place; the drowning out of the coffee grinder and the perfect pitch of steaming milk is music to a coffee lover's ears. You can enjoy words of encouragement along with solitude in this place.

3. When we combine a cup of coffee with God's word, it makes sense that we would feel a stirring in our hearts and joining in fellowship; inviting a conversational time and a time of listening and prayer with a relational God, and in those moments, we are able to sit in a quiet space, and slow our time. 

You may be thinking, "coffee? An aid to a spirit-filled life? what silly madness!" and yes, it is true that when it comes down to it, coffee is just coffee (and even for me to say this, it's a big deal). But the next time you pour a cup, think on how it may stir your heart to come to the Father, ready to listen, and really to enjoy an overflowing cup. Think on how we are to share the aroma of Christ when you are pouring your milk & sugar, think on how we are called to come to him in full surrender, ready to be molded in his hands as your coffee brews. Our lives are filled with everyday moments and mundane routines that can truly reflect glory and serve as little reminders of heart transformation.

Making Room

After I move furniture to make way for what's coming

I sit eyes closed, neck long—

trying to imagine space full of cardboard boxes

and a dog with a crate

three times bigger

to remind me of how we grow.

She will need peanut butter and baby gates,

gentle nudges and worn out legs

I will run with her away from these oak trees

and we will be pioneers together;

she will push her nose into this life we have built

and we'll make room.

Meet Zoey, the new member of our family as of 2/28/12

Music

cutestfood

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                                 Morning Symphonies Before Breakfast

                                  coffee grinds and 

                                  puddles of milk;

                                  making the most of clinking spoons

                                  while rain collapses outside on 

                                  dumpster trucks 

                                  like one thousand hands clapping

                                  under water. 

                                  I take a bow

                                  and pour my cup.

Mud + Water: The Practice of Preparing

I get out of my car, and the early morning light is distant against the parking lot and railroad tracks. There is a newness to the morning that makes me breathe deeply. I am reminded of driving on that bridge last winter, seeing the city skyline enveloped in fog like old bones. I rolled my window down and wanted to call out, "O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord!" Just as the hand of the Lord was upon Ezekiel in the Valley so many years ago {Ezekiel 37}. The people in this city, the people in this world are waiting for a stirring that breathes life into them, and as Christmas time approaches there is a heaviness that is unknown to them, an urgency for something more. We wait for the Messiah who enters our world. We wait for a Perfect One to come, to live among us, to experience life with us and offer something better. There is a holy waiting time, and we can feel it, a thick presence all around that veils itself within music, laughter, and holiday cheer.

As I walk across the bare parking lot, a cloud of fog stirs across my path, and I fish for the keys and open the Coffee House door. In this open space, I am alone. I brew a fresh pot and let the air-tight bag of fresh Guatemala roast coffee beans spill into the grinder. The flavors extracted from the beans fill the room and warm me. As the coffee brews, I wait, pen in hand, and write.This precious time and space clears my mind of all the cluttered "to-do"s and allows me to unwind the layers of my week. I peel away all the stress, frustration, and busy tendencies that the holiday season can bring.

I sit in silence, and prepare my heart in the only way I know how: being still before the Lord. I call to Him, I write down the parts of me and parts of my week that wear away at me, and beside those words I write down all of the names I call Him - to remind me who He is and how His character and mercy is enough. And His son, who is sufficient of all things, stands before the Father to bear the weight of my sin. I read the list of His beautiful names beginning and ending with the Great I AM beside the list of my failures, and my heart becomes pliable in His hands. I smile a knowing secret on my lips, for I know of Him who has come and has promised to come again. Just as the Infinite God of the Universe came humbling himself in the form of a man, I ask Him to make more room in my heart - to stretch me - to come and dwell with me this day and always.