Coffee Beans and Things

If you were the name of a coffee flavor, what would your namesake be?

I think about these things, especially sitting in coffee shops with shelves full of clever.

Highlander Grogg, Mohito Momma, Magnificent Soul Soother…

Goodness I want to sip on all of them, if not for anything more than the experience.


People are an experience.

My guy and I talk about this a lot lately.

Everywhere we go we leave our fingerprint smudges, our expressions, the tone of our voice. We leave our aura. We leave memories.

We leave a moment where strangers who may never see us again, catch a glimpse of the only us they will ever encounter.

We leave a moment for the ones we see every day, letting them in a little bit further.

The world may be advancing and one day run by robots (Gosh I hope not), but I thank God for humans. They make life fluid and interesting and intimate.

I don’t think this idea that we are imprint-makers should pressure us into perfection.

I think it should invite us into awareness and bind us to authenticity.

Like humans, life is fluid…sometimes it looks like wreckage and confusion. Other days it looks like honey and kind. And sometimes it just looks dull.

If I were a coffee flavor, I think I’d carry the name Presently Suited.

Treading each day in the present, knowing I’m suited for what it carries.

And not on my own accord.

On my own, my nature can lead me to grumpy, and overly sensitive, tired and lazy and doubtful that good is in view.

But crowned by a King who never leaves his thrown, I tread in the present, knowing my nature is suited just fine.

My overly sensitive can look like strength in vulnerability.

Some seasons are a crap-shoot and they can drill an oil mine full of negativity.

Do I fingerprint that on others with a poor attitude, or down-in-the-dumps face, or projecting onto those I love because someone deserves to feel the crap too? Do I shut down and close off, or mask it all with an I’m fine?

No. I try not to at least.

I can be honest though. I can invite humans in to sit with me, pray with me, or just name the crap and lesson the personal.

I have a willingness to grow, and a tuned-in instead of turning off to reality.

My tired can put on its shoes to breathe and meet and understand.

My lazy evolves into desire

which crosses into passion lived out and lists made to pursue.

My doubtful is turned into questions which usually finds prayer and people to walk beside.


We’ve been intent lately to think about our fingerprints, our smudges, our tones, our moments in the making.

I don’t want to be a perfectly flavored cup of coffee. But I do want people to see me and think, I want to sip some of that (okay that sounds weird, but I liked the analogy to begin with).

I want them to see a fluid person with a crown fixed higher.

I hope they know that even when the crap-shoot seasons come, they can climb up with me and rest where we’ll never fall too hard or too far and never ever behind.

And we can always, always live honest.

Honest but kind. 

Recently I shared some coffee (the real kind) with some friends who are also treading reality in the open. We all had our stuff that seemed too much, but the hindsight was the ah-ha. Even when life feels thin or protruding or raining buckets of hard in constant pour mode…the constant has always been that on the other side of it all, there has always been good and peace at our disposal. At least when it’s in the open palms of a constant God who wrote the story and knows the end.

What flavor would you be?


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