Hope Matters
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 💛🤎
Let’s talk about it. What did this hopeletter spark for you?
I appreciate you taking the time to read this hopeletter about my life and coffee. Please share with a friend who could use a little hope or coffee recommendation.