If we could have coffee
If we could have coffee. If we really could. Like if you lived close to me.
If we could have coffee, I'd probably arrive late. It's the season of life I'm in. I always intend to be early, but then I spill something on my shirt (probably some coffee) or the cat needs to be fed. Or something.
If we could have coffee, I'd probably be wearing my ripped jeans and a cut-off tee shirt. It's my favorite look this summer. I've had these jeans for a few years and they've been worn in all the right places and a few weeks ago they finally ripped and I was like "Hallelujah!" I think I've worn them 3-4 times a week since then.
If we could have coffee, I'd have to meet you at my local bakery. Dunkin' Donuts coffee is bad and so is McDonald's. So we'd have to meet at the bakery. And that means we'd also have to eat donuts. We'd have to. I think it's a law or something.
If we could have coffee, you would probably smell me before you saw me. And in a good way. I'm really loving my essential oils these days and my motto is "the more the merrier". I love all of them and I wear all of them. So I hope you like peppermint and rosemary and orange. All at once.
If we could have coffee, I'd talk about my kids. And I'd talk about adoption. And I'd talk about essential oils. And I'd talk loud. I'm sorry. Only I'm not sorry. Not for any of that.
If we could have coffee, I'd want to listen to you. I'd love to hear about you. About your life. About your cats. Or disdain for cats. (I understand that too.) I'd love to hear about your home renovation project. I'd love to hear about that cool thing you made out of pallets or about your latest Pinterest fail. (I understand those too.)
If we could have coffee, I also want to tell you a few things. Besides things about adoption and orphans and essential oils. I'd want to tell you to be brave. We all have things inside of us just screaming to get out. Projects, books, newspaper articles, songs, craft projects. We all have them. And we have to let them out. The world is only blessed with one of you. And one of me. And it's a shame if the world doesn't get to see your "you-ness" or my "me-ness". (Those are words, trust me!)
No seriously, the tagline of this little blog is "...let the brave begin." Your brave could begin today. And maybe mine will too. One thing I'm learning lately is that bravery needs to be renewed on the daily. Just because I was brave yesterday doesn't mean I'll be brave tomorrow. Just because I nailed it yesterday doesn't mean it will be easy tomorrow.
Tomorrow has it's own troubles (Matthew 6:34). And needs it's own bravery, I'd like to add.
If we could have coffee, I'd love to give you a shot in the arm of bravery. I'd love to tattoo some bravery on your forehead. So when you wake up tomorrow and the world looks scary and hard, you look in the mirror and you're reminded of your bravery. Because you are brave. And I am brave. And together we are brave.
So today, even though we can't meet for coffee, pretend we just did. Pretend you just told me all about your cats and how your husband left his wet towel on the bathroom floor again. Pretend you told me that scary thing, that thing you are afraid to voice to anyone else. Pretend you just told me about this crazy idea you have. You know the one. The one that as soon as you said it, you wanted to quick grab all the words and shove them back in. That one. Pretend you just told me all about it. About how even though it's scary, it makes a part of you come alive when you think about it. And then pretend this. Pretend that I just high-fived you, hugged you, and maybe cried a little. Because I'm a sympathetic crier. And I'm also a crier at all things inspirational and uplifting. I especially cry when I see someone being brave. And even if you don't feel brave, it's okay. Because I've tattooed bravery on your forehead. So when you wake up tomorrow and it all just seems like a dream, go look in the mirror. And let your brave begin.