Until 2026, when grief showed up, I put on my boxing gloves, determined not to be taken down. However, this year grief showed up in the boxing ring with loaded gloves, ready to go to battle, and all I had were my regulation ones.

When I tell y’all I'm down for the count, because…

1. I knew. Each time, The Spirit made me aware it would come to an end, and I begged and dared to believe anyway for a different outcome.

2. They happened sooner than I expected. Despite knowing the outcome, the phone call/message still caught me off guard; I didn’t feel prepared. I believe death will always feel too soon, no matter what age the person is or what they’ve endured.

3. It seems something adverse hits my life each time I’m on the verge of a breakthrough to something new or different happening in my life, and yet…

I hold onto hope and faith. Clinging to them for dear life, because that’s all I have. My life doesn’t and can’t stop, because others’ have. I know that. But sometimes I wish it would slow down enough for me to at least get my bearings.

What I've learned these last 3 months is that I’ve got to:

• Let grief do its thing. I won’t win (My therapist assures me of this.). The ebb and flow are unpredictable, and I simply have to roll with it.

• Keep going and continue to approach the good things in life with fervor, in spite of and because of my grief. You see; they loved me, and I know for sure each of them would have my a**, if I let anything keep me from moving forward.

• Allow people to check on me and be honest about how I’m truly feeling. Like we used to say, “Ain’t no future in yo frontin’.” Basically, pretending to be okay when I’m not adversely impacts me and others around me.

“Dearly beloved, we’re gathered here today to get through this thing called life…” And get through it we shall. How we get through it, how we choose to view it determines whether we push through to the other side. Today, I choose to hold onto hope and faith and push through.

Love 💛🤎,

Parthenia

Here’s something you should know about me. If I see a notification, I have to open the app. There’s just something about that little red number that annoys me to the point I have to clear it. Even if I don’t read or click on whatever the notification was sent to tell me, the number has to go away.

I know you might be judging me already because maybe to you this seems like a simple fix, but guess what? Judge not…

Anyway, about a month ago, I had a conversation with myself and decided that it’s okay to miss some things or take my time about viewing them. It was at this point I opened the settings on my phone, ventured into the notifications, and turned off the ones I wanted to check at my leisure. What I realized that led to this shift is that the notifications were making themselves seem so important, and quite often the notifications were about random stuff I couldn’t give two hoots about, particularly in about two of the apps. (Those little red numbers were made for people like me, who can’t resist opening the app simply because a number appeared.) I began to be frustrated, because the notifications weren’t about anything my friends were sharing with me or from pages I followed closely. Ugh!

Now, I know there are a ton of other measures I could’ve taken within the apps to straighten out this notification madness. However, for me, that involved way too many steps, when all I needed to do was toggle off the “master” notification button. So, there you have it. I turned them off, and this is what happened.

I hope you’re not thinking it was something magical or extraordinary, because it wasn’t. Many people discuss how significantly their lives changed from dialing out of social media. I didn’t exactly dial out; I still checked my apps but at my leisure and not because of some number I couldn’t resist.

What did happen was:

1. I became less engaged with and more surprised by what I was seeing and reading. Between work, caregiving, and other life things, I’m already more stimulated than I should be, and social media adds to that.

2. It solidified that the apps are out to get me [to open them that is]. Each time I open the apps and go to my notifications, there’s this little reminder that I’m not getting these “all important” dings to my phone and a request to turn them back on, so I can once again be bothered by the numbers that don’t want to tell me anything of importance.

3. I have more meaningful conversations with people I care about. Not the way you might think, though. So, now when a friend asks, “Girl, you haven’t seen or heard about…it’s been all over social media.” I can say no in earnest and have them tell me all about it without having to open these dreaded apps while absorbing everything else that comes along with that. These conversations are the lead-ins to catching up on other life happenings with my friends, which is way better than what’s going on in these apps in the lives of folks I don’t even know.

4. I’m beginning to manage my life a little differently now, and it started with the notifications. It makes me feel unbothered about turning off or turning down the noise of other things in my life. I’m also starting to be okay with the quiet that comes along with it.

I don’t know what your “notifications” are, but I encourage you to turn them off, make the slightest adjustments, and take notice of what happens. Don’t do it expecting a major life shift but to experience how changing the smallest thing can shift your perspective on this life in so many little ways.

Have the best day!

Love 💛🤎,

Parthenia

Sip of the day: El Café Duran Tradicional

At the end of the meeting - after everyone except her, one of the coordinators, and I had left - his advisor looked at me with a smile on her lips and in her eyes and said something like this. I hope you’re taking all this in. You’ve done such a great job. [not verbatim but the sentiment]. Meanwhile, my brain had moved on. I was thinking about my schedule, how I was going to move him out for the year, and what he needed to be doing this summer. I paused, looked at her, and said, ‘You know. You’re right. I need to let this settle. I never really do that; I’m immediately on to the next thing.’

This is the life I live. This is the life of this single mom of an autist, who’s preparing her son to live life without her. (I type as I cry.) Yes, the small victories matter, and the big ones matter even more. Yet, I don’t let them settle. I don’t bask in the beauty of what’s happening or what has happened, because I know something else needs to happen. Another lesson needs to be learned. There are next steps to something we’re already working on.

So, on the drive back, I forced myself to pause. I didn’t turn on a podcast right away. I let it settle. I breathed.

I allowed myself to feel the weight of the accomplishment. I sat in gratitude to a God, who loves me enough to help me as we move forward in faith. I sat in gratitude to myself for the long days, the tears, the fussing. I sat in gratitude to my son for putting in the hard work of being an autistic Black man in this Deep South of a state and [sometimes] being willing to listen to his mom before the lesson.

Whatever you’ve accomplished. Breathe, be grateful, and let it settle.

Love 🤎☕️,

Parthenia

Sip of the Day: Despertar Negro by Cxffeeblack

I’m dropping this hopeletter as a means of an update and to relay how I’ll be showing up here moving forward. First of all, this keyboard feels so good under my hands right now simply because of this shift in deciding how I’m going to continue. Second, you may possibly get tired of my randomness and post frequency about whatever. 🤭

I’ve made the decision to not think so hard about what I want to share. To not wait for insight to find me. To not wrestle with that insight so long I forget what it is or pore over it until it’s just right. To not format this hopeletter.

I’ve decided to do what I tell all my editing clients:

What that means is that sometimes there may be inspiration. Sometimes, there may be rambling. Sometimes, it might be a paragraph. Sometimes, it might be more words than you’d care to read.

What led to this you might ask? Well…I’ve been doing some thinking (Dangerous I know.) about consistency. Everywhere I turn there’s some social media influencer talking about how to increase your following or poke at the algorithm. And every single time it boils down to one thing: consistency (and usually in front of a camera). I’m uncomfortable “in front of the camera.” Therefore, I’ve been grappling with this implementation of consistency for quite some time now.

Standard social media platforms-for me-are more about lurking, liking, and sharing with friends. Although I can do “in front of the camera” and engage with an audience, it’s not my preferred method. I simply don’t want to, which means I overthink it. Also, the level of engagement with people, who I don’t feel like I know, seems weird and impossible to keep up with. I promise it’s a struggle to try and like or respond to everybody’s comment or gif. 🙄

On the flip side, this writing off-the-cuff behind the laptop feels natural and doable. Here, on Substack, it’s mostly about reading and thought. I know some accounts have strong leanings toward presenting like they do on other platforms that are camera-heavy, but I have more opportunity here to engage with people who like to write, read, and think before they post. So, here we go I guess. Let the engagement and consistency begin.

You’ll see more of me here and randomly. It may not always be in a post like this. I might be dropping a note or two here or there. I might be restacking more. So, if you’re not on Substack and only engage by receiving these hopeletters via email, you’ll miss those. Either way, you get to walk with me in whatever way you choose, because it’s all about comfortability and ability at this point. That’s the path I’m choosing.

And I love y’all but, this is not the time to tell me that “growth doesn’t exist inside your comfort zone.” 😒 These engagements will exist inside my comfort zone.

And when it’s time to grow beyond that, I’m not opposed. For now though, y’all gon’ get this comfort-zone writing and sharing. 😆 You’re just going to get it more often and with less initial thought, because that’s what I have the capacity for right now. Also, because it releases me from others’ expectations. As I’m fond of saying, it is what it is, and it’s gon’ be what it’s gon’ be.

As usual, I’m interested in your thoughts on the matter or anything else you’d like to share, so the comment section is open.

Let’s move forward together.

With love 💛🤎,

Parthenia

Today’s Pour: Exploradora Mexico - Women Grown, Women Owned

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This content is free to consume, but I’m not opposed to you buying me a cup of coffee. ☕️😉👇🏾

Buy Me a Coffee

Hey, Hope Buddies! I’ve missed y’all, and I hope it’s reciprocated. I’m just gonna jump on in with this one, and we’ll see where we land.

So, about a month ago, a very dear friend of mine passed away. And when I tell you it hit like a ton of bricks…ooo wee! I was on the phone to my therapist as soon as I could manage a phone call. Now, I wrote about grief a couple of years ago, so this won’t be that. However, if you feel my grief in it, so be it. 🤷🏾‍♀️ I’m still managing, and I’m learning to be okay with that (She typed as she rolled her eyes 🙄 about it and recalls her therapists words.) 🤦🏾‍♀️

Now, I know you’re wondering what in the world this has to do with a Cricut , and I’m getting to that. And maybe you’re wondering what the world a Cricut even is? (It’s a cutting machine, y’all.) 🤭

This friend I’m writing about is the reason I actually own one and have for almost 6 years now.

Well, I was asked to speak as a friend at her funeral, and it’s not lost on me what an honor that was. (Neither she nor I are the type to use the term, friend, in jest or casually.) Of course, those of you who’ve been with me here long enough know that, if it’s in the hopeletter title and I’m writing about her, the Cricut was also in my tribute. So, Hope Buddies, I’m sharing a bit of that with you:

I don’t know how or when the rest of our friendship happened and grew so very quickly but bonding over planning turned into not-about-work phone calls, lunch or dinner out, discussing music and our knitting and crocheting projects, and completing devotional plans together…and then I decided to get a Cricut (with her enthusiastic encouragement). Because, according to her if I got one, I could create our planner decals, and we wouldn’t have to buy them on Etsy. Her exact words were, “Parthenia! Think of all the things you could do!” She was WAY more excited about this [Cricut] than I was, and I was the one who was buying the thing!

Her creative mind - and her belief that I could create or re-create anything she came up with - was unmatched. I always knew it was gonna be trouble when she texted a picture and asked, “Do you think you can do this?” or just flat-out said, “I want you to make me one of these. It doesn’t have to be the same; it can be a version of it. I know you can do it.”

Now, following this exchange she’d give me time to design some mockups and let her choose one before I got to cutting. This amounted to about 5 years worth of decals or whatever she could think of. So, if you knew her and saw her planner name decals, clipboards, or received a cowbell (Hail State! 🐾) from her during this stretch of time, I most likely cut them for her to lay after she got one of her “bright ideas.”

After I’d learned of her passing, I began to wonder if I’d ever be able to use that thing again, ‘cause it hurt just looking at it. Well, wouldn’t you know, I couldn’t even get through the next couple of weeks without requests from people who don’t even really ask me to use my Cricut. I’m sitting there looking at my phone like…Y’all asking me to do what now?!

But, in the spirit of remembrance and her belief in me, I agreed to the projects. And as usual I fussed over them, and all I could hear was her voice in my head (typically accompanied by an eyeroll) saying, “Nobody knows it’s not perfect but you, Parthenia!”

So, I’ve used my Cricut, and it still stings a little to use it, knowing I won’t get that random “I’ve got a project for you” text from her or make anything for her again. Yet, I know I can use it, and I’m grateful to her that I even have it as a creative outlet. As I told you all many hopeletters ago, hope and gratitude exist together.

I deeply miss my friend, Dwanda, but the appreciation I feel for her inadvertently having taken up so much space in my life over the past 8 years infinitely outweighs that. We both identify as warriors; each for different reasons. So, in respect of that as well as her memory, I will war on in faith and with an expectation of victory…

…and keep using my Cricut. 💪🏾

Coffee Matters

🗣️ Coffee Buddies! So, listen! Y’all already know that Cxffeeblack got me in a chokehold on this monthly subscription. Last month, they sent me the Oh Que Sera along with the OG Guji Mane. And when I tell you I was hooked at the first sniff of the beans…?! Then, I sipped it. 🤤 I was immediately considering ordering another bag right then and there.

They did not lie about the notes on this one. It’s “wildly fruity.” Do yourself a favor and order a bag. You can thank me later. 😉

Well, hey there, Hope Buddies! I know it’s been a while, but I’m back in your inbox for the time being. I’ve been taking it slow and not leaning into consistency where I couldn’t make it fit. Anyhoo, as a result, I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting and allowing spiritually downloaded ideas to flow in and settle. That’s just where I am in life now.

One person I’ve been thinking about quite a bit is 5-year-old Parthenia. My therapist and I talk about her a lot. See, she’s my reminder of who - as a result of so much life that has happened - I lost to become this adult you all see today. She’s the person I’m striving to reclaim. She was beautifully unbothered, hard to impress, sassy (unbearably so for some people), had never met a camera she didn’t like or thought liked her, and was eager to share her newfound and old knowledge with anyone (whether you wanted it or not). Homegirl was badass! You hear me?

During this time of year, so many people are preparing and planning for the next one. I’m typically one of those people, but this year I ain’t feeling it. This end of year has been slow for me, on purpose. I don’t have a word for next year; I don’t even want one. What I have done is taken to doing activities I enjoy that I often don’t make time for because, well…life (that I’ve allowed to take precedence). Things like immersing myself in books, knitting scarves, eating dessert for breakfast with a coffee, streaming rom-com Christmas movies, jotting down notes in my journal to be dealt with later, practicing calming my mind, and so much etc. that I can’t possibly include here.

What I do know about next year is that I’m going to spend it channeling 5-year-old Parthenia and returning to that unpretentious girl who loved life and herself immensely. Here’s a story for ya.

Since I could see — probably before — I’ve loved books, from having them read to me to eventually reading them myself. This is what I get for having an educator as a mother, who also happened to be a reading specialist. She read to us in the womb and at night before bed and introduced us to phonics super early. Thus, the reading-on-my-own began super early.

Well, about the age of 5, my parents enrolled me in this wonderful Montessori-style kindergarten. These were some of the best days of my life, as there would be many opportunities for me to choose what I wanted to do. Of course, reading was almost always the order of the day at some point. Well, early on in my attendance, my mother recalls that the owner of the facility, who was also my teacher, pulled her aside to note something she’d seen me doing.

One day, I was in the sunroom (my favorite place), and she heard me giggling. She came around to see what I was doing. And to her surprise, I was in the floor reading Stuart Little by E.B. White and giggling about something he’d written that I’m sure the little mouse had done (probably driving that little car 🤭).

See, my teacher didn’t know I could read and understand a book of that length. Of course, my mother assured her it was indeed normal for me to do this, and yes I knew precisely what I was reading and not just looking at the pictures.

Hope Buddies, I told you that story to write this. As I move into this next year, my aim is to remember the joy of that little girl who got to choose every. single. day. what she wanted to do and read and giggle as much as possible. To remember a girl who believed she could do any- and everything. To remember a girl who did not suffer fools gladly. To remember a girl who allowed herself to be loved fully.

In the last week of this year, I do believe that 5-year-old me is smiling, as I have spent time reading and giggling and choosing each day what I want to do.

Now, maybe your you that you want to keep channeling is the one you’ve already grown into. Maybe you need to go back and grab the one you most want to identify with. Or, maybe you have an idea of who you’ve never been and want to become. Either way, I encourage you to spend time thinking about and being that person. It’s freeing in a way I couldn’t even imagine.

Don’t get me wrong. I love me now as I am, but I love little Parthenia in a way I never did before. I’m allowing her to be my guide as I slow walk into the coming year.

Coffee Matters

Coffee Buddies, the way I’m out here enjoying Cxffeeblack coffees is on 1000! That’s pretty much what I’ve been sipping these last few months since I’ve signed up for their subscription box.

Their OG Guji Mane is always in order, but they have a microlot, Guji Gold, that is chef’s kiss. Also, the 3 Kings is not to be missed.

I hope you all are staying warm, hydrated, and enjoying whatever beverage has been your favorite.

Hey, Hope Buddies! I’ve been thinking lately about the how subjective success is. One person’s definition can vary vastly from another’s. As I was thinking about my personal definition of success and what the markers are for that, I remembered an interview I was part of about 10 years ago.

Now, let me explain. At that time, I was well into my 30s; five years divorced; simply surviving; had been working my first full-time salaried job for less than a year; and Son was practically a new teenager. I certainly didn’t feel like a success or think I was anywhere near it. Yet in this interview — as I was answering the interviewer’s questions and discussing large chunks of my life — she paused after I finished answering one of her questions and looked at me with amazement and said…

This question caught me off guard and made me smile a little, because as I mentioned before, I didn’t consider myself a success by any stretch of my imagination. Far from it, actually. As far as I was concerned, I was just living my life one day at a time, trying to get things right or as close to right as possible, while keeping Son and myself alive and housed. (This is actually how I still see my life.)

Well, I was having a conversation with a friend the other day, and she said, “You don’t understand how rare it is to find a parent that…I have seen…” I sat on the other end of the line listening to her and thought to myself, ‘Wow! They’re still happening.’ These success stories.

To me, these are everyday doings. Nothing spectacular, and I certainly don’t consider myself as having arrived. What I have done, since that interview 10 years ago, is occasionally try to take note of the small wins in my life. Over time, I’ve also come to realize that my small wins are other people’s ideas of success. I don’t know that they’ll ever be that for me as I look at them incrementally (yet another thing I need to flesh out with my therapist 🙄🤦🏾‍♀️).

I’m writing this hopeletter to encourage you and me.

Take note of the small wins; they’re not only someone else’s successes but yours, too. The small victories add up to a life of overcoming and major milestones.

Take stock of them before deciding (and praying about) what your next steps are.

Take moments to breathe, rest, and evaluate just how far you’ve come. (I certainly don’t do enough of this.)

As I write this, old song lyrics come to mind and make me feel a little like singing, “When I look back over my life, and I think things over. I can truly say that I’ve been blessed. I have a testimony.” Maybe one day, I’ll tell it all or just continue to tell you all pieces of it here. But, I do have several testimonies that have formed the Parthenia behind these thoughts and words you read.

This life has involved much prayer, thought, loving, leaving, and moving forward because of and in spite of my circumstances. I have been blessed. I am a blessing and indeed a success

Hope Buddies, here’s to a lifetime of continued successes and may we always see them for exactly what they are.

Coffee Matters

Coffee Buddies, I have not only been drinking coffee but delighting in it for the past few years. For some people, coffee is just to get them rolling out of bed and out the door in the mornings, and it used to be that for me. A means to an end. Now, it brings me so much pleasure to taste for the notes the roasters say are in the beans. Sometimes, I find them, and sometimes I don’t.

But lately, I’ve expanded my enjoyment by “playing with my coffee” as it were. Growing up Black in the Deep South, I was often discouraged from “playing with my food” — and as a child who most often toed the line — this feels simultaneously rebellious and fun.

On any given morning, I decide which method I’ll use to brew my morning cuppa. Then, appropriately grind the coffee beans for it. This is what I’ve learned and am enjoying immensely: Different brewing methods bring forth different notes, which means I’ve been “playing with my coffee” way more than I used to, especially when I buy a new bag of beans.

I’ve also learned this. In a world that is constantly changing and where my routines provide comfort and familiarity, shaking up the small things bring newness and joy. So, shake it up, Coffee Buddies, even if it’s a tiny thing. The unfamiliar might be the joy you’ve been looking for.

With much hope and excellent coffee,

Parthenia 💛🤎

Hey, Hope Buddies! Let’s talk about our dreams. You know, at some point, we all have dreams. I remember my elementary school dreams were of an adult Parthenia; who was simultaneously a teacher, attorney, doctor, firefighter, and nurse. 🤭 Who knew that parenting would make me all these things at any given point in time? Look at my dreams actually coming true. 😂

As I got older, of course my dreams were streamlined and felt a little more directed. Then, the circumstances of my life derailed those dreams, and the further I got away from them the more improbable they felt. After a while, I began to tell myself and believe that those dreams weren’t for me to have and maybe they weren’t even supposed to be mine in the first place. As more time passed, I forgot what they were and believed they were lost. And what’s worse, I couldn’t even seem to have new dreams. I prayed to God to help me dream again.

Then, some people entered my life who encouraged me to envision the life I wanted. I was also attending church regularly, and my pastor was preaching some poignant messages about this very thing. Slowly, I began to see — not with clarity — my life differently. And the dreams, they started to come back. Then, it happened.

One day, I was looking through some journals for a blank one to gift someone else (certified journal junkie 🙋🏾‍♀️), and I came across this one…

It was a gift from my sister. Inside, I found a beautiful note from her and some of my dreams I thought I’d lost, along with some other ramblings and a few flower petals I’d saved in the back. As I read and remembered, it hit me. My dreams weren’t lost; I was the one who’d tucked them away. They were gone at my own hands, for whatever reason my therapist and I will flesh out at a later date.

Hope Buddies, if you were once a dreamer and you’re struggling with remembering them or wondering if they ever existed, let me reassure you. They’re not lost, just tucked away, waiting for you to pick them up again. I’m not asking you to hunt for them but know they’ll come back to you at just the right time. They still belong to you.

In the meantime, spend some time with God. Spend some time with yourself. Take the focus off what is and shift it to what you’d like it to be. Then…“Write the vision.” While you’re doing all that, He’ll give you new dreams and remind you of the old ones at just the right time.

Coffee Matters

Coffee Buddies, I hope you cleaned your pots sometime over the past week. 😉

Last month, I went to New Orleans for White Linen Night. Of course, while I was there, I had to find another coffee spot to share with you all. This one not only had an intriguing name but an interesting origin and purpose. Located on Basin Street (Just typing that makes me want to play Basin Street Blues, but I digress.) in what used to be Storyville, it’s “not Uptown, not quite Downtown, but Backatown.” Backatown Coffee Parlour is a gathering place with good coffee, tea, art, pastries, and light fare.

Because it’s out of the way, I don’t want you to miss this New Orleans joy. So, I’m telling you about it. Next time you’re in the area, it’s worth the effort — whether walking from downtown or driving over — to make a special trip to this place.

Wishing you loads of hope 🙏🏾 and coffee ☕️,

Parthenia 💛🤎

Hey, Hope Buddies! Dropping in with a quick note.

You know, there’s this popular statement people often make. “[He/She/They] threw me under the bus.” For those readers who’re unfamiliar, it means whoever “threw you” made you the scapegoat or blamed you for something that most likely wasn’t your fault. Now, sometimes it’s true. People do get thrown under the bus.

However, if you’re a person who seems to always be the one under the bus, you might want to ask yourself whether you’re lying down in front of said bus and waiting for it to run you over.

There are some things we bring upon ourselves. When we don’t act in ways we should and think people don’t see us; when we blatantly make false statements and accusations; when we mishandle God’s people, we should expect the bus to run us over. Because, we have essentially laid down in the road.

If this sounds familiar to you because you always seem to be under a bus, I challenge you to get your be-hind up outta the road! Do the right thing; do right by people; hold yourself accountable. So, maybe when you do get thrown under the bus, you’ll have an already upstanding track record.

Hope and stay from under the bus!

Coffee Matters

Coffee Buddies, I’ve been thinking lately about coffee pots and printers. I know you’re wondering where in the world I’m going with this. Last week, I was cleaning my coffee pot. Now, that’s about 3 cycles of water, using fresh water each time. I looked over at my printer across the room and thought about the cleaning I just gave it a few weeks earlier. Here’s the thing about cleaning printer heads; the cleaning cycle can use a lot of ink, especially if you have to run more than one.

I thought to myself that coffee pots and printers have something in common. It takes a lot to clean them, and you might spend a little extra money. However, cleaning them both is necessary for proper functioning, for clean copy and tasty coffee.

Take this as a gentle reminder to clean your coffee pot and keep an eye out for other things and people that may require your attention and a little extra time or effort.

Wishing you good coffee ☕️ and loads of hope for your journey,

Parthenia 💛🤎

Hey, Hope Buddies! I’m still here, and I still love y’all. 💛 (Sometimes, folks just need to hear/read it, ya know?)

My walking buddy and I cancelled our walk this morning. And as I was returning home, I thought, ‘Maybe this is the day I’ll write again.’ Then, I thought, ‘What more do I need to ‘Maybe this…’?’ And as your neighborhood overthink-er and over-doer who regularly attends therapy sessions, I dialed it back and decided writing would be enough today. 😌

Now, I’m not abandoning my maybe-this things entirely, but I am going to take them one at a time. It’s the maybe-this things that bring me joy. They’re the fun things, the things that — even when they’re not always fun — don’t make me feel like I’m striving. So, what I’m going to do is make a list of my things I’ve not been doing for a while (If you’re new here, I’m a planner, and writing things down helps me prioritize like nothing else.). Then, I’m going to take my time, either adding them back in or alternating them out, so I can add more joy to my days, weeks, etc. And let’s face it, we can all use more joy right about now.

My list is going to read something like this:

• Maybe this is the moment I’ll…

• Maybe this is the day I’ll…

• Maybe this is the week I’ll…

• Maybe this is the month I’ll…

No, it’s not your standard list. For this, it can’t be. As a planner, to-do lists make me feel as if I have to check things off-which leads me to beat myself up if I don’t get it done in a certain amount of time-and that’s the opposite of joy. The maybe-this lead in feels like an option and a reminder to just bring them into existence, when my heart and mind are ready to settle into them.

Hope Buddies, I dropped in today to remind you that the maybe-this things matter for your soul. The maybe-this things matter for your heart. The maybe-this things matter for your mind. They don’t have to be big; they just have to be.

Hope and let them be. 🫂

Coffee Matters

Coffee Buddies, for the past couple of months, I’ve been frequenting a coffee shop here in my city, Cultivate Coffee Project. It’s quite possibly my new favorite. The inside vibes are airy and spacious, and they serve Northshore Specialty Coffees, which are indeed my new local fave beans.

If you’re in the central MS area, I encourage you to check them out. Now, I’m going to round out this hopeletter and get back to my cup of Myanmar Danu Oat Twin Village.

With lots of hope and coffee,

Parthenia 🤎☕️

Hey, Hope Buddies! There are times when I reread notes in my journal, because some of it is actually helpful. 😆 The entry I’m sharing with you today is from about a year ago after I’d read a daily devotional plan entitled, “I Am Clear On My Purpose.”

Rereading this served as a timely reminder. As a matter of fact, it hasn’t been untimely since I read and copied it in my handy-dandy notebook 🐾 (IYKYK 😆). At this critical point in my journey, where my specific purpose is steadily being revealed, I understand and am embracing it now more than ever.

Hope Buddies, if you have been wondering what your purpose is and whether it will ever be revealed, my advice to you is be patient. It’s wrapped up in your gifts and life challenges. And, sometimes you need to finish going through to “bring healing, restoration, and joy” to others through your specific purpose. Don’t rush what God is doing; time makes all the difference.

Be patient and hope in your purpose.

Coffee Matters

I’m baaaaaaaack, Coffee Buddies. And let me tell you, I have had some excellent coffee since I last shared with you. I went to the Motor City, and my friend there made certain I had as many coffee experiences as our short time together would allow. (Thank you, Doll! 🤗) Of course, I took some nearby-the-hotel coffee jaunts of my own. So, over the next few hopeletters, you’ll get to find out about all of them.

The first place I visited was Roasting Plant Coffee. What made this experience so distinct was that there was — in the middle of the shop — a giant coffee roasting machine (Javabot), where all the coffee beans were fresh roasted. 😲 I was drawn to the Mexico Women Power Zongolica, not only for the taste notes (which include chocolate 😋) but also…women and power. Need I write more?

This was an experience for all the senses: sight, smell, sound, touch, and taste. I hope you enjoy the slideshow of pictures of my time there. And if you’re ever in the area, consider this place.

Hey, Hope Buddies!

I want to share even more personal thoughts I have from time to time. So, I’ve decided that I’ll occasionally drop one of my journal entries here at Hope & Coffee Matters. They can have many points or none at all. 🤭 Take from these musings what you will.

💜,

Parthenia

12:00 noon

As I make my way to Detroit aboard this plane, I marvel at the number of people (particularly window-seaters) who are content to exist in darkness, when there’s such beautiful light outside waiting to greet us. What does that say of us, that we’re bothered by light? Does that also mean we’re bothered by Light?

The flight is almost completely darkened, with the exception of about 5 [open] windows. I’m typically a window-seater and, through last minute rebookings of a canceled flight and one to which I arrived too late to check my bag, I’ve been relegated to an aisle seat. 🙄 Oh, how I would’ve loved to have opened that 6th window and indulged in my plane-riding ritual of sky gazing and allowing myself to not only see but feel the journey as we take off and land.

These last two days have been event-filled with disappointments followed by joys that I couldn’t have manufactured. When we choose to ride out the disappointments, with complaining and frustration [swiftly] replaced by expectation and the leading of the Holy Spirit, it’s miraculous what can happen. I got the chance after a canceled flight yesterday to spend time with a dear loved [that I hadn’t seen in quite a while] and get some rest, required by a body that had done entirely too much in the week. A girl’s excursion — interrupted by yet another rebooking — has turned into time spent with myself and a return to tuning out the world around me with calming music, a good book, and time to write…

Prior to this trip, I’d only used the music to tune out Son or other immediate distractions while reading texts or writing papers as a student. However, the busy airport and noisy flights called for silencing the world with noise-cancelling earbuds and a playlist I’ve entitled, Tunes to Write & Read By. In this darkish cabin where, at anytime a flight attendant or other passenger will come whizzing by for one reason or another; the music, the book, and my journal are a refuge.

My tired body is excited about landing and making my way to the AirBnB I’ve booked for the night. My empty belly is excited about whatever food I might find to delight my palate. My mind is surprisingly refreshed and not overrun with thought. I credit [this to] the time I took to dial out [from] the busy world moving around me.

As we endure the turbulence and prepare to land within the next 30 minutes, I’m missing my window seat and am sad that I’ll have to put my pen down soon. I want more of this, and not just in airports and on planes. I intend to use this as one of my new rest practices I’m cultivating in resistance to the violence that has been systemically inflicted upon me (Thanks, Tricia Hersey*.).

I am a revolutionary, and this revolution will not be televised, because it’s internal and intentional.

*I’m currently reading Tricia Hersey’s Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto, a life-changing and life-giving work for those who desire to know what rest is, why it’s important, and want to develop their own practice. Click the line to purchase it from one of my favorite book and coffee shops.

Coffee Matters

Coffee Buddies, stay tuned for new coffee ☕️. 😉

Hey, Hope Buddies!

Lately, I’ve been feeling pressed about a couple of things in particular. They’re things I was excited about at some point, like 14 years ago. Because at that time in my life, I had all the time in the world to devote to them. They didn’t scare me as much, and I was ready to do it big and go hard. I had ALL the motivation and was “Ret ta go!”, but that didn’t last long. Now, at a time in my life where my schedule can be full FULL on any given day, I’m feeling pressed — not motivated — to act on these things.

Now, motivation is different from pressing in that my full schedule can override motivation but not a pressing. This pressing is Spirit-led. And I know that, because it won’t let up. Side note: The last time I felt pressed — not motivated — to do something, I started writing Hope & Coffee Matters, and here we are. But I digress.

Hope Buddies, every time my schedule amps up, something happens or someone crosses my path to remind me why I need to continue acting on these things and not give up when they get hard. Or, something happens that comes to distract me. To that point: In a sermon my pastor preached recently, she reminded us that, when we’re on the right path and doing exactly what we’ve been purposed to do, distractions will come to deter us. When I tell y’all, I must surely be on the right trajectory with these ‘cause…whew! 😮‍💨

It’s the pressing that keeps me moving forward. Now, let me help you understand. This is not a Peanuts-comic-strip pressing, where Lucy presses Linus’s head down to keep him from growing. This feels like a small push on my back that guides me forward.

You see, these are not things that make me feel all warm and fuzzy; you know…happy and excited, because I’d much rather be chilling instead of up thinking at 3:00 in the morning or randomly having my thoughts interrupted while completing other tasks and needing to make quick notes. However, they do bring me joy when I imagine them working for others as they were designed.

Hope Buddies, if you’re feeling pressed about something or some things, I encourage you not to ignore them. Let the small push fuel you. Open your mind to imagine what will happen as a result of your forward movement. I guarantee you it will be exponentially more than you could have ever imagined. Join me in making small Spirit-led steps, imagining phenomenal results, and letting God bless them more than you can fathom.

💜,

Parthenia

Coffee Matters

Y’all, I threw out some flavored coffee beans recently. 🤦🏾‍♀️ I never thought I’d do it, but I just couldn’t take it any longer. I won’t be telling you what it was or where I got it to protect the producer and other consumers who might like it. Coffee Buddies, I tried so hard to like it and was going to power my way through the bag. I even tried to give it away, because I thought there was an error in the way I was either preparing it or not dressing it up (Y’all know I drink my coffee black.), and the receivers didn’t like it either. *deep sigh* 🙄 So, I trashed it.

It kind of hurt my heart a little to watch those beans trickle down the inside of the trash can, but nobody I knew was going to drink it. Well, of course, I bought new beans. Actually, another flavored coffee I’d never bought before, and it’s tasty.

Here’s what I learned. If it doesn’t suit your palate, just let it go and be okay with it. You’ll move on and things will be fine. Maybe that flavor was never meant for you, but there is one that’ll be just right.

Praying you all have nothing but good coffee until next time! ☕️

Hey, Hope Buddies!

So, listen. I’m dropping in (I think briefly.) to say be easy with yourselves in 2025. My journey from the end of 2024 to the tippy top part of 2025 has been about personal ease. Part of it was forced, but I’ve learned something. Now, you might’ve heard something like it before, but welcome to my version. 😏

We (meaning me and some other people I know) often start the year with all kinds of intention setting, new resolutions, goal setting, etc. Well, for me, this new year has been a bit different. I began this year with the prospect of a medical procedure that I knew would drastically shift my daily morning routine. Initially, I was upset about all my hard work in 2024 (at least partially) going down the drain. Side note: When I tell y’all…the mindset shifts that took place last year…whew! Ya girl was busy and things were pulling together nicely. But, I digress.

After allowing it to sink in that there was absolutely nothing I could do differently than physically ease into this year, I began to think about some things I’d placed in my new planner that I’d like to accomplish in 2025. As I approached my procedure date, here’s what I decided. I was going to ease into my intentions and goals, as well.

Too often, we overwhelm ourselves trying to make things jump off so quickly at the beginning of the year that we lose momentum and get disgruntled easily. What this healing on the other side of the procedure has sunk even deeper in my spirit is that everything (including our goals and intentions) requires a process. And processes are typically not quick. They sometimes take years.

So, as I look at my goals and intentions for 2025, my prayer is: Process me, Lord. I pray this with the knowledge that some things will happen quickly and some things won’t. However long the process, I know I’ll be better for it. If you haven’t lived long enough to know that rushing processes yields terrible product, take my word for it and save yourselves some backtracking, headaches, and heartaches. Don’t give up; ease into it. Let the process happen. Allow the learnings to take root as you go through, as you make progress.

Hope Buddies, my prayer for you is that you be easy with yourselves and be processed but not get weary in the processing. Keep going, even if it takes longer than you thought or wanted. The process matters more than the result.

💜,

Parthenia

Coffee Matters

Surprise, Coffee Buddies, I haven’t been sipping coffee this week. I have been sipping tea. You probably expect that I would be sipping some spectacular, specially-blended, exotic tea from a tea shop. Well, here’s another surprise for you. My tea of choice this week has just been plain ol’ off-the-shelf mint tea. 😲

As a result, my body got the caffeine detox I didn’t know she needed. (I kinda did. 🤭) However, I feel better for it. Here’s one thing I always notice when I take at least a week’s leave of absence from my morning coffee: I sleep better. Even though I mostly only drink coffee first thing in the morning and drink plenty water throughout the day, the caffeine still somehow manages to impact my sleep.

Coffee Buddies, I don’t know if you’ve considered taking a break from coffee (not a coffee break 😏), but you might notice some things if you do. If you’ve ever done this let me know some changes you’ve noticed in the comments below.

Hey, Hope Buddies!

I’m excited today! I just finished 2 things, a book and knitting project. One, I started this summer. The other, I started a couple of days ago. There’s so much joy in finishing a thing. And as I look toward finishing 2024, I’m relishing the gratitude I feel for all this year has taught me, brought me, and taken away.

If you were with me at the top of the year (maybe the end of last year), I began it with discipline, commitment, and consistency.

As often happens, sometimes the consistency wasn’t so consistent. But when it was, it resulted in success. When it wasn’t I had developed enough discipline and commitment to jump back in. I’m a bit proud of me; I hope you’re proud of you, too.

You see, Hope Buddies, we’ve made it to day 28 of the 12th month of this year. That in itself is an accomplishment. I know I couldn’t have gotten here without prayer, hope, and coffee shenanigans 🤭.

Thank you all for showing up here time after time. You don’t have to open the email, Substack or Facebook posts, or links that my friends so diligently send to others. I’m grateful for each of you who takes time to read my thoughts and coffee musings! 🤗🙏🏾

I encourage you to take these next few days, not to stress over 2025, but to assess all this year has taught you, brought you, taken away, and the lessons you’ve learned. Look carefully at how God has moved in and for you. Write it all down, so you can remember. Hope Buddies, please know that all along 2024 you have been someone’s (most likely several someone’s) blessing. Let that warm you when you’re feeling sad or not as accomplished in the goals you may have set.

Remember, you are a light! Hope in finishing well and…

Coffee Matters

Coffee Buddies, I have no new notes or coffee for you as we end the year. I hope you’ve had a year of excellent coffee of your choosing and loved ones to share it with.

I ended my holiday jaunt with coffee and conversation with 2 of my favorite family members. Coffee is great when you’re sitting and thinking all alone, but it can be just as great with an occasional chat and breakfast dessert 🤭.

If you’re like me and often reserve your coffee sipping for your alone time, remember to make time to enjoy it with those you love. It’s an experience you won’t regret and one you’ll want to make note of in your list of things to be grateful for.

💜,

Parthenia

Hey, Hope Buddies!

It’s been a few weeks, but I’m back with another hopeletter and a bit of news. We finally finished decorating our Christmas tree. Now, to some of you this might not be a big deal or matter at all. However, at my house it’s a momentous one this year. You see, this year Son finally got the tree at our house that he’s always wanted. He loves nice Christmas trees, and typically the only one he sees, in a home where he has consistent access during the holidays, is at my mother’s. Now at Mom’s, my sister decorates the tree, and she is the queen of all things Christmas in our family. So, you can imagine that Mom’s tree is magnificent and takes hours to decorate and take down. 🙄 I’m more of an “if I can’t slap it up in 30 minutes let’s not bother” type of person. So, imagine my sister’s surprise (and way too much excitement) when I called and told her I was putting up a tree at my home this year.

Okay, I’m about to dial this back a bit. When I first left Son’s father almost 16 years ago, I had such mom-guilt that I made sure Son had a tree that year. Keep in mind it was a small tree, but he had a tree with a star atop it (That’s a Son requirement and a source of contention between him and my sister. *stage whisper* She’s an angel-on-top kind of person.).

This was our first tree and the only one I could afford (not really) at the time. I paid about $15.00 for that tree from Rose’s and bought 2 packs of ornaments, a tree skirt, and a star from Dollar Tree to decorate it.

Well, as time went on and our tree ended up in one of the communities I serve, Son has only had the tree at my mom’s each year. Fast forward to this year — a year when I’ve been doing a lot more reflecting and moving purposefully — I decided to ask Son if he’d like a tree at our home this year. I already knew the answer, but I was dreading it just the same (see 30-minute note above 🤦🏾‍♀️). Y’all, the enthusiasm that glowed from his face when he said yes made it a done deal. Son was getting a tree, and he wanted to help put it up! So, I purchased a tree and some decorations with the intention to have a nice-not spectacular-tree, and we started in early December. Son put the tree together, and I would take about 15-30 minutes some weekday mornings to either fluff up the tree, put a few ornaments on, stick some picks in there, etc. He added a few of his personal ornaments that he’d created over the years, and I just put the star on top Sunday, and this is what we have now…

While reflecting on our new Christmas tree, I decided to drill down to the main issue (besides the 30 minutes) of us not having a tree until now. It came down to resources. I just didn’t have enough to make everything happen. I was doing my best to keep us alive and sheltered, buy Christmas gifts, and make sure he had gluten-free/dairy-free eats and treats for the holiday at my mom’s. And, all of that stretched or exceeded my budget. So, no tree. As I often told people when they’d ask if I’d finished decorating for Christmas, ‘Son has enough tree and decorations at my mom’s.’ To which they’d respond, “Give that baby a tree.”

Hope Buddies, be careful with and mindful of people in this season (and always). Some of us are doing the best we can with what we do and don’t have. A little bit can be enough, if there’s love there.

Son and I began our journey with a little bit of a tree, which ended up being no tree, which ended up being a full-sized tree that we put up a little bit at a time. I said all this to say every little bit matters. Don’t overwhelm yourselves in this season or those following. If you only have a little bit to give, let that be enough. If you don’t even have a little bit, let love be enough. It all works out exactly as it should.

Sending you all so much love and wishing you the Merriest Christmas!

Coffee Matters

Coffee Buddies, I got the sweetest gift in the mail from one of my friends. She knows how much I love coffee and how much I believe in hope. Since I got it last week (maybe the week before 🤔💭), I’ve used it no less than 3 times already. 🤭 It reminds me to begin my day with lots of hope and some good coffee. 🥰

Look…

Hey, Hope Buddies!

I’m glad to be back with you this week. I spent my creative energies elsewhere last week and have spent this week preparing to be and being with family. However, I couldn’t let another week pass without dropping in here.

Today’s hopeletter is about control—rather the illusion of it. My entire life I’ve heard this word bandied around in different spaces for a variety of reasons. I like to believe I have control over my life, and to a certain extent I do based on the decisions I make through free will. Yet, when I make those decisions and things don’t quite work out as planned, I have to take a step back and acknowledge Who is truly in control.

Now, I didn't show up here to get into an existential debate about control and who has it. This is personal, not between me and you. This hopeletter is based in my reality; and if it reverberates with you, awesome. If not, there are other great writers who might have written something more aligned with your thought processes and feelings. With that, I digress.

I’ll make this brief, as I don’t have much to say on the subject other than this. There have been times in my life when I’ve made plans and decisions that didn’t always result in good outcomes. Sometimes, I knew they were good ones, and at other times I knew they weren’t. No matter the decision or my plan, things always worked out as they were destined, even if and especially when I had to take the long way around.

The more I realize God is in control of my life, the more I’m able to relax and rely on Him for guidance. The more I realize He is in control, the less bothered I am about things that are happening around me. The more I realize He is in control, the more capable I believe I am to do the hard things.

As I prepare to show up in big ways for myself and others in 2025, I lay all my plans and endeavors at His feet, recognizing that God has the final say in all things concerning me. If I have to shift those plans because the Lord speaks something different to my heart, I have no problem with that. Now, I might act out a little first 😆. But I’m learning to get over myself and shift quickly with the knowledge that He knows what’s best, and it’ll will all work out for my good.

Hope Buddies, as we round out this year and prepare for the next, I hope and pray your plans align with God’s. Remember Jeremiah 29:11, but also remember verses 1-10, especially when it feels hard and things don’t seem to be working out, although you know your plans are aligned with His.

Sending love to and am grateful for each of you reading this hopeletter, and I plan to see you back here next week. ☺️

💜,

Parthenia

Coffee Matters

This week I got to enjoy a delicious new coffee with two of my coffee buddies.

Now, these coffee buddies are regular, store-buying drip coffee drinkers, who don’t typically participate in my coffee variety shenanigans. However, I just knew they’d like this one. It was a gift from a hope buddy, who supports my coffee variety shenanigans, although she’s not a daily coffee drinker.

This coffee is a special blend created by Northshore Specialty Coffee Co. for Mistletoe Marketplace, which is a huge local event that spans about a week in November.

As the bag suggests, it’s bright and smooth, which is also why I knew my coffee buddies would enjoy it. 😁 It fairly screams, “Drink me for breakfast, with breakfast, or just in the morning!” In short, a great breakfast blend for sure. It’s not available on the website, only locally. So, you’ll just have to take my word for it…or maybe if you reach out to Northshore, they’ll ship you some “All Is Bright” especially.

Hey, Hope Buddies!

Well, it’s been a week. A long week. An emotional week. However, here I am, doing well and sipping my coffee as I type you this hopeletter. I’m okay. I’m also hopeful, while being mindful and aware.

If I haven’t told you, I’ve been participating in a fellowship for a little over a year. Well, this week I attended a convening of the fellows. You should know I didn’t want to attend; I was emotionally and physically exhausted. My soul was weary. But, it was the convening I didn’t know I needed.

During one of our breakout sessions, we were discussing our previous experiential exercises, one of which was an electric maze. (I’m going to explain this as best I can in words, but I really wish I could show you video). The electric maze is a huge rectangular mat sectioned off into squares. Underneath some of the squares is a trigger that will buzz if you step on it. However, there is a way across without stepping on any; the entire team has to find it and get across. So, needless to say, there’s an enormous amount of trial and error. Also, there’s another team on the other side attempting to do the same thing, with each team taking a turn trying to get across from their side. Now, there are a couple of stipulations: we couldn’t verbally guide our teammates across, and we had to remember which ones had triggers and didn’t. I’m sure you can imagine the level of pointing, grunting, and facepalms that ensued as we each took turns trying to get across. Also, we wouldn’t be finished with the exercise until every single person from each side had crossed over to the other side without incident.

As we were discussing this exercise from the previous convening, one of my fellow fellows remarked that the most intriguing part for her was how we had to retrace our steps to go back to the beginning.

There was a collective “Hmmm…🤔” at our table. I went straight to my notes in my phone, because…thought-provoking, and I needed to write about this. So, here we are, Hope Buddies, with me writing about it.

While reflecting on her statement, I thought about its application to my life and how sometimes going back to the beginning re-energizes me, sometimes it frustrates me. Like…

However, either result in some form of action in a positive direction. We often view having to go back or start over as negative, but the beginning is where the revelation happened and the energy surged, either from frustration or ideation. Should we keep moving and stepping on triggers until we get to the other side, how much more frustrating would that be than simply going back to the beginning, looking at the big picture, remembering missteps, and plotting a better path. It is slower than continuing to activate those triggers, but it’s more satisfying in the end. And once you make it to the other side, you can help others-who are traveling the same path-avoid those triggers. You’ve got the map!

Hope Buddies, let’s stop looking for quick fixes or the quickest way to get across, especially if it’s triggering. This is your reminder to retrace your steps away from the triggered path and go back to the beginning if you need. Be frustrated. Be renewed. Take a good look at it. Then, start over. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. You’ll make it across with restored energy and a better strategy.

Love y’all!

Parthenia

Coffee Matters

Coffee Buddies, this morning I’m just drinking my Northshore Speciality Coffee Ethiopia Yirgacheffe blend (from a standard coffee pot) and hydrating while writing.

Hope you all make time for some radical self-care today as you prepare to go back to the beginning. ☕️

Unpopular opinion and short hopeletter loading…

Hopelessness is a luxury. It is indeed one I cannot afford. I can’t afford to wallow in despair when things don’t go as expected. Current events notwithstanding, embracing hope has been my life. It has been the life of my ancestors, both living and passed on.

If I am to honor their memories, their hard work, their sleepless nights, their strategizing, their plan execution; I dare not lose hope!

As a divorced mom of a son on the autism spectrum, I have had a plethora of opportunities over the past 14 years to throw in the towel. Yet, I pressed through, because what happens to Son if I don’t? What happens to Son when I’m gone?

As a Black woman, the opportunities to wallow in “woe is me” have been and are endless. Yet, I continue to show up every day, because what happens to me if I don’t?

As a public servant, I have had many chances where I could’ve thrown up my hands and walked away. Yet, I keep striving for change, because what happens to those I serve if I don’t?

As a Christ follower, I can’t say that I’ve been persecuted for that. However, He, like my ancestors, set a powerful example. Jesus knew they were out to get Him. Yet, He kept going. [reference Matthew 12:15 MSG] In so many instances, knowing this He kept healing, teaching, correcting, and even loving us until and beyond death.

Hopelessness is indeed a luxury reserved for those who have certain privileges and/or lack a connection with God. My Blackness, my womanhood, my parenthood, my Christianity does not allow for hopelessness. As I continue to move forward—because going back is not an option—I remember to go to the Rock, for “When my heart is overwhelmed; Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” (Psalms 61:2 NKJV)

Hope will forever hold me in the road and propel me forward. Hope is my legacy.

Coffee Matters

ALL coffee matters today. ☕️ Let it fuel your hope.

💜,

Parthenia

Hey Hope Buddies,

Okay, so, Son loves watching episodes of the Care Bears. As I was passing through our living room one day, he was watching an episode in which I heard the villain yell to his ever-present sidekick who’d failed once again, “Do I have to do everything myself?!” I instantly thought of my dad who used to remark - when things went awry - “If you want something done right, you’ve got to do it yourself!”

I’m writing this hopeletter to explicitly and simply refute that with a…

Listen, don’t be the villain in your own story.

You don’t have to do everything yourself, and neither are you the only one who can do it right. The truth of the matter is that you’re the only one who can do it the way you want it done. That’s the main reason we attach ourselves to these statements and make them true…for us.

Whatever it is can get done the way someone else does it, as long as the task is completed. Now, once we allow someone else to do it - whether it was done to our liking or satisfaction - we’ve got to strongly resist the urge to offer advice or “fix it,” or we may as well have done it ourselves.

Let me save you some time and energy. Let it go! Allow other people to do whatever that thing is. Ask for help, then let them help you.

Biblically, it’s appropriate. Hebrews 4:16 (The Message Version) states, “So let’s walk right up to Him and get what He is so ready to give. Take the mercy. Accept the help.” Of course, this is referencing our Lord. But if we are to model ourselves after Him and walk this word out in life, sometimes we’re the help and sometimes we need the help. We’ve got to get really good at learning when it’s time for which. But today, I’m talking about needing the help.

Hope Buddies, I want you to understand I’m writing this to you as I’m walking in the learning of it. So, I’m going to leave you with this. Don’t be the villain in your own story. No matter how it gets done, as long as it gets done…

💜,

Parthenia

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Coffee Matters

Coffee Buddies,

Is this you?

It’s most certainly me and only in the mornings after my workout. I will fall for it every time. However, I have standards. I might even need to see the bag first. 😆

These are the circumstances under which I will not get trapped:

• Random store-bought coffee

• Mid-morning, midday, or evening coffee

• Unmarked styrofoam cup coffee

• Untested and unapproved gas-station coffee

My coffee has to be flavorful (not necessarily flavored) and sip-worthy (not gulp-worthy). I need to be able to savor it, and it’s that much better when I can have a conversation over it.