If we were on a coffee date and it was outside, I'd be drinking a sweet cream cold brew. But if we're inside where the air conditioning is kicking, I'd go hot coffee because I'd probably be catching a chill and have left my sweater at home (or in the office). The air conditioning balance is the greatest struggle of life in California (or so I tell myself).
If we were on a coffee date, I'd tell you I've been adding lemonade to my morning smoothies. Just for the zing of the lemon really, but it's delicious. I'd recommend it to you and then ask if you have any cool, smoothie-enhancing tips. I'd add that I know my mom throws a peeled tangerine in hers for a zesty taste sometimes.
If we were on a coffee date, I'd admit that there's an odd stirring in my soul. It's a stirring that's obsessed with redemption and moving from the black and white area of faith into the grey. It's stirring that's fueled by a new attentiveness I have to the way He works in details and patterns. It's a stirring that's got me engaged in life and faith and thinking hard all over again. It's a beloved stirring.
If we were on a coffee date, I'd ask you about rhythms in your life. And I'd tell you that mine have shifted lately. They've dropped into a slow, kind pleasant movement that feels like a gentle porch swing in evening light kind of movement. To and fro I go, with a peaceful pleasantness that isn't like any season I've known before. I'm holding tight to this snail's pace, accepting the slow down, and praying some thank yous.
If we were on a coffee date, I'd be curious and pressing about the grey areas in your life. I'd want to know if you embrace them or hate them or attempt to color them in one way or another. I'd tell you that I've learned grey is my happy place (and chosen clothing color) which is a fact I fought so hard for more years than I'm completely willing to admit to.
If we were on a coffee date, I'd recommend grilled spaghetti squash to you. It's so warm in the evenings that I don't want to turn on the oven and make the house hotter, so instead, I put it on a low grill. The charred bits and smokey taste have won, not only me but also, Jason over. I use it just like pasta and it's always a win. Always.
If we were on a coffee date, I'd confess that I'm in a sad reading rut. I'd share that I finished three books that I really loved in early June and haven't found any hint of literary magic since. Then I'd quickly beg you to help me out with your recommendations for restoring my romance with all things literary. Give me tips to get back into the books. Tell me what I absolutely need to read right now. Remind me how a good book can change the course of your day.
If we were on a coffee date, I'd remind you that we're the good in this life. I'd share how hard the news is lately, how devastated I am for our country and how helpless it can make me feel. But then I'd remind you of the way you've changed my heart and made a glorious impression on my life. I'd tell you that you're powerful in beloved, kind ways and I'd dare you to take action for the world just like you did for me.
- - - - - -
Join us friends. Join Erin and I right here, right now.
If this month isn't what fits in with your time or content (the form will stay open for two weeks), you can join the second Monday of every month from now until Kingdom come.