30 Days of Thanks, Day 17: Coffee

Ok, today I’m abandoning serious, deep thoughts.

Though coffee

is serious business, folks.

A good cup of coffee can start a day off perfectly; and a bad one can ruin it.

We don’t want that now, do we?

I could just end this post now by saying you should go here to get your coffee, but even as an employee of that place, there are other good coffee places out there, too. Though I really like Firefly.


Coffee really became part of my life when I worked at Caribou the year before we went overseas.

I mean, I drank it in college (what college student doesn’t?!) but it was there that I really learned to appreciate the finer points of pulling the perfect espresso shot, the proper amount

of froth for a latte, and what a true macchiato actually is. (And for the record, folks, it does not involve caramel sauce, though that IS tasty stuff!


In Indonesia, coffee became even more important.

Yes, I drank it every morning…it’s kind of necessary for surviving life as a teacher.

But it also became that thing…when I needed some girl time, we’d all go out for coffee just to talk and laugh.

When Tobin and I went on a date, it almost always included Starbucks. We’d take our cribbage board with us and play a few rounds while sipping our usual…an iced Caramel Macchiato for him, a skim  hazelnut latte for me.

When I was having a bad day, I’d get Becky and we’d hop on a bike and go down to Starbucks (or Excelso…mmm, I miss that place!) for some caffeine, some laughs, some tears, and some heart-healing.

Even here, coffee is kind of what helped me fit in. It was only after going out for coffee with a few different friends that I finally started feeling like I belonged.

And my job and making connections through that is helping, too.

So whether I was being serious or not when I started this post is debatable.


But, I AM thankful for coffee.

I’m thankful for a lot of other things, too, which you can read about here, at my new post for the Patch.


The Power of a Story

I love stories…hearing them, sharing them, speaking them, wr iti

ng them.

What most of you probably don’t know about me is that up until college, I was deathly afraid of speaking…in public, in a group, in class.

Anything more than one

on one? Sent my pulse through the roof.

Thankfully, and only through God’s grace, I was able to overcome that fear in college, mostly because I was put in several situations where I had to get over it. Amazing what a person can do when they’re really faced with no choice but to just do it. 😉

The thing is…I’m SO glad I was put in those situations, because I learned something.

Like… talking to people is enjoyable, and sharing stories is even better.

I love to hear about people’s lives and the events that have brought them to where they are today.

To be fair, I also do my share of telling my own stories.


When someone chooses to share a part of their life with me, I feel like they’re saying, I trust you enough to be vulnerable and give you a tiny (or not-so-tiny) piece of my life.

No matter where I’ve been… those stories from

those friends are what make up memories.

And those memories are often all I have of people to whom I’ve said goodbye and probably won’t see again until heaven.

So…I think a story is pretty powerful.

I touched on that today in my new blog post for the Algonquin Patch. I hope you’ll hop over there and check it out.

Thanks for reading, my friends.