Friday morning lattes

I’m especially fond of Friday mornings.


I only have school Monday-Thursday, so I basically have a three day weekend every weekend. I love my schedule and it’s brilliant(thanks Mom!), because Fridays are my own to do what I please. I mean, let’s be honest, I don’t even touch my homework until Saturday night.


However, instead of sleeping in on my Friday mornings, I leave my school alarm on. I get up early, sleep-walk through the shower, jump in the car and head to Starbucks. I’m usually a little bit late(mornings are rough for me). Mama R is a little bit early, and Sarah is pretty punctual. 


We always get the same drinks; Sarah gets an oreo snowdrift or hot chocolate, depending on the weather. Mama R gets iced tea or hot tea, I get a mango smoothie or a pumpkin spice latte.


And then we talk, talk, and talk. Usually we talk the full two hours, sometimes we have to leave early, often we go late. We share stories, struggles, discoveries. Mama R listens, gives advice, asks questions, and has a really great laugh. Sarah has the best stories, is so honest and insightful, and an amazing encourager. We read our bibles, we pray, we challenge and question and swap life lessons.


As I sat at our little table this morning and watched them laugh, I was struck with a thought:


These are my people.


I can pray with them, I can laugh with them, I can cry with them. We tell goofy stories about my dad or Sarah’s brother or one of Mama R’s sons, and we get below the surface and talk about the really hard stuff, like family and relationships and how to be loving and brave. They know how to party, and they know how to cry. And they willingly do both with me.


I have other loving, strong, beautiful people and meaningful relationships in my life as well, and it doesn’t make me love those any less: they are also ‘my people’. But there’s nowhere else I go that I can get a good latte and a good laugh like I can with these beautiful, deep, hilarious women.


So, to Sarah and Mama R: thank you so much for the stories, the vulnerability, the hugs, the prayers, the coffees you bought. Thank you for the ideas, the encouragement, the inspiration, the hand you stretched out for me to hold. I see it, and it inspires me to be that kind of woman and friend also, to you and to others.


And, to you: who are your people? Time to find out, friend. Look around you.

God didn’t create us to walk His path without a hand to hold.


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