The Coffee’s On

My grandparents used to drive across three states in the middle of the night to reach my great grandmother. No matter the time of their arrival, there was always a pot of coffee on to welcome them. My grandparents and great grandmother would tuck my father and uncle into bed and stay up all night talking. They couldn’t wait to catch up.

I wonder how many millions and billions of relationships have been strengthened by coffee chats? How many of us have found comfort in starting our days with that first cup? Perhaps it’s been in the kitchen with a loved one or silently greeting God’s creation at the window? Maybe you’ve groggily yet cheerfully gathered around the coffee pot at work? Possibly it’s been around a table at noon with others who understand or at a café where you finally met?

Look at the Starbucks and coffee shops that have spread like wildfire across this country and around the world as people not only seek out the caffeine but also the warm smiles shared over the counter as joyful baristas ask your name or already know it. Hours and hours are spent in these coffee shops in the comfort of friends or even in the comfort of just not being alone.

Oh, coffee, yes, I am thankful for you.

I’m thankful for the memories of meeting my friends almost daily as teenagers at the Hillcrest coffee shop in Little Rock drinking giant chai tea lattes not worrying about the world revolving around us only caring about each other and that moment. It really was all ok.

I’m thankful for the ways you kept us awake giggling through our studies in college and leading us to the completion of those papers and preparing us for exams.

I’m thankful for the strength you gave me to lift my head and push my cart through Target and smile through every aisle the first time I left my daughter at home with my husband after she was born.

I’m thankful that you bring new people into my life and that you give me time with my dearest friends and colleagues. That you give us a time out to catch up, to listen, to share, to solve, to just be.

I’m thankful for every cup and conversation shared, especially with my parents and my mother-in-law, who always make sure the coffee’s on, and I’m thankful to my husband, who may not drink coffee but who knows how important putting the coffee on can be.

Here’s to sharing that next cup, everyone.

With love and light,

LT

Stories of My Heart

When I was a little girl, my daddy read to us every night he could. He delighted us with Thornton Burgess’ stories of animals such as Mrs. Quack or Grandfather Frog that could both sadden and gladden our hearts. We depended on these moments. We thrived in these moments. We grew in these moments.

My mother made sure we had library subscriptions as soon as we were able. She walked us by the hand into the nearby library and helped us register for our library cards. She brought us back regularly to return the now beloved books and check out new ones or renew favorites. By the time we were pre-teens, she encouraged our independence and allowed us to pack lunches, jump on our bikes, and spend our Saturday afternoons reading away at the library on our own.

Mrs. Bischoff, our 7^th grade English teacher, knew how to inspire each of us to new levels of literature exploration. She knew I had a soft heart and could not handle the sadness of animals that took place in our stories that year. She allowed me to read and process those chapters alone in the school library. She also challenged me to read “Rebecca” and the writings of Cynthia Voigt and both the “Alanna” series by Tamora Pierce and “Clan of the Cave Bears” series by Jean Auel. I grew by leaps and bounds with each new title.

Oh how stories shape us. For years our ancestors gathered around fires and in small rooms to share the word and discuss it, but the more advanced we became, the more separated we became, and the less we shared.

Stories build community. We find something of ourselves in stories. We find something of others in them, too. Many times those commonalities or differences bring us together as we talk through them. It’s no wonder to me that people continue to gather in book studies to discuss what they’ve recently read and that on Saturdays and Sundays across the world, spiritual stories are still shared aloud in liturgies, and small groups come together to discuss their lessons. These traditions have continued to bring people into relationship for centuries.

Consider the bonds built by parent and children or teachers and their students during story time. How many of you remember reading with your loved ones or listening to a beloved book like “Charlotte’s Web” or “James and the Giant Peach” in school? How many of you still do read aloud with loved ones, perhaps a picture or chapter book, a classic, a poem, a newspaper article? How many of you cherish that time?

Our stories don’t just have to be from books. They can be of our day, of a recent trip, an extraordinary experience, or a less than extraordinary experience. Perhaps they are shared memories that bond generations together and give us insight into a different time or a chapter of a loved one’s life that helped shape him or her.

Please don’t stop sharing stories or searching for stories. Read to one another. Share your memories, your opinions, your questions, your sadnesses, your happinesses. Reflect on your experiences…together.

“You see I don’t know any stories. None of the lost boys know any stories.”

“How perfectly awful,” Wendy said.

“Do you know,” Peter asked, “why swallows build in the eaves of houses. It is to listen to the stories. Oh, Wendy, your mother was telling you such a lovely story.”

~Peter Pan, Chapter 3 “Come away, Come away!” by J.M. Barrie

With love and light,

LT

E.T. I'll be right here.

We watched “E.T.” tonight with our children. Abby is eight and William is six. It was fantastic.

After trying for many days to get a babysitter so my husband and I could go out to see a movie on our own, I gave up and proposed that instead we have a family movie night. Andrew suggested “E.T.” explaining that every child must see it. I’m not sure why, but I hesitated. As I looked through the other options, I honestly couldn’t imagine any other movie available being any better. I was right. Andrew was most definitely right.

Watching E.T. with our children for the first time was magical. I can only imagine what it was like for my parents when we first watched it together. Andrew and I had the added bonus of having seen the movie before and having the opportunity to help our children through some of the parts they found intense with the promise of hope.

I love, love, loved being reminded how those children stood up against every authority in their lives to protect the innocent, to do what was right and ultimately to save a life. I was amazed at the simplicity and yet complexity of the movie. My heart soared.

I will declare it now, regardless of technological achievements, the group bike escape and flying scene is the greatest movie scene of all times.

My heart is full of joy and hope. Thank you, Steven Spielberg. Your gift of creating meaningful relationships through characters and story continues to amaze me movie after movie. I so appreciate this special evening and memory you have given my family.

"I'll be right here."

With love and light,

LT

Strayed

I can appreciate Cheryl Strayed’s choice in last names. I’ll let you read her book “Wild” to realize why she chose it. My “strayed” is a different story but a strayed one none the less.

If I don’t work to keep a strong and centered focus on God and our relationship all the other parts of me start to stray. I’m not as patient with my children. I’m not as loving to my husband. I’m not as thoughtful to my friends. I’m not as kind to strangers. I close off. I become insular. I stop.

But, if I do focus on God, I can make stronger choices, choices that lead to positive reactions and positive repercussions.

To be honest, I don’t always know what staying focused on God looks like. I know what it feels like, but I’m not always awesome at taking the action steps to open the door to that intimacy. Should I be praying in a different way, studying, attending my bible study, curtailing my speech, taking action, or participating more in my church community. I’ll admit, probably all of the above is the answer. It’s all been weighing on my heart. So, why am I in my way and how do I get out of the way if I seem to know the answer?

Always in the hope of love and light,

LT

Sick and Happy

So for the past three weeks, I’ve had some sort of bug. It started as a cold and then turned into bronchitis, which knocked me off my feet for several days. To say the least, it has been frustrating. I’ve missed what normalcy can be expected in my day-to-day life. I’ve missed not being able to think straight because I just don’t have the brain power. I’ve missed not being able to help my children, especially reading them stories. I’ve missed conversations. I’ve missed being with people. I’ve missed my job and the people I work with. I’ve missed feeling useful. It’s been a bit of a downer to be honest.

But here are some things that have kept me positive while I’ve been sick…

I’ve loved listening to my husband and children giggle together and hearing them ask him for something first before they ask me. It makes me feel good about the solidarity of their relationships.

I’m proud of my team at work. I was incapable of helping them. They pulled together and made magic happen. It makes me happy that this week brought them greater self-confidence and reaffirmation of what they are doing.

I finished reading Ann Patchett’s collection of short stories and essays entitled “This is the Story of Happy Marriage.” If you relish in good writing, I highly recommend this compilation to you. It also reminds me how thankful I am for the circle of friends who I read and discuss books with regularly. Although I can’t be with them as often as I would like, their presence in my life brings me comfort and solidarity.

I was reminded how much I miss my small group ministry of bible study and the strength I gain from going to church every Sunday. These two disciplines are key to helping me stay centered. Thank God that Calvary Episcopal Church posts their sermons online every week for those of us unable to make it to services. And I know my Thursday Theological Thinkers were praying for me, which helped me feel less lonely during my illness. One kind friend even brought me soup, which warmed my heart immensely. (My little Abby was quick to point out that this same friend brought us fresh baked bread as well.)

I got texts and e-mails from people who knew I was sick and those who didn’t. Each were sweet reminders of how connected I am in a greater web of caring that goes beyond my own understanding.

My point being made here is that no matter how down one may feel there are so many rays of light that shine through those cloudy moments to try and warm our hearts and heal us. My little Abby is curled up next to me and has just read aloud this blog to me. She smells good, fresh from the bath. Her little giggle lights up my heart. Earlier her little brother William sat with me, just as close, while I read. His hand was on my elbow and his little foot was resting on mine. I smiled and sighed with relief. I know I’m loved. I think I’ll mend.

I wish you all wellness and happiness. Please know that you are loved, too. The signs are closer than you think. Try to open all of your senses and welcome in the light. Looking forward to writing again to you soon.

With love and light,

LT