::the one where we take a turn, while others go straight::

we walked in and ordered our drinks, iced caramel macchiatos. small talked with our favorite barista, giving her a hard time about dinner plans that have not come to pass. we laughed with the other one, that looks like olivia wilde, eyes that stop you in your tracks. making our way to an outside table he lamented forgetting his cigars as he rarely gets time to relax in this way. we took the obligatory instagram picture several times until one met my approval. then we settled into conversation saturated with dreams.

somewhere along this journey of life we took a turn while everyone else kept straight. we desire a life of less, not more. constantly purging this home of all things that hinder joy and life abundant. we desire a life of community, encouraging others along the way, carrying each others burdens, going the extra mile. we desire pockets of friends huddled over coffee discussing the life of jesus and how we can be more like him.

he dreams of a home church that begins with meals that fill the belly, sandwiched with  conversations good for the soul and laughter on the end. we wonder if there are others on a similar journey, seeking the jesus of the bible. the one that hung out with whores and thieves and low lives and proclaimed their value. the one that encouraged caring for the poor and widowed. the one that cared much more about people than the laws set in place. the one that would break the law if it meant meeting the need of a brother or sister.

i dream of a time for moms to come together and be refreshed. maybe reading a book together, or scripture or neither. just talking the evening away so excited for an opportunity to have conversations that are not interrupted with requests for more milk, help with the potty, cleaning up messes or breaking  up disputes. i dream of a home full of mothers with no common bond but this season of pouring out. i dream of a safe place to be real without fear of judgement or comparison. i dream of mothers encouraging mothers.

i check the time, knowing my precious mama is at home with the babies, and has to work tomorrow. we finish up the last sips of our coffee delighted with our time together and hopeful that our dreams may come to fruition. breathing in the moment one last time, we throw our cups in the trash and walk to our car hand in hand, we don't say it allowed but know we are blessed.