“I won’t leave this light on”, I thought to myself when I left the apartment, “I’ll be back before it’s dark.”

A novice hiker’s famous last words.

My friend and I went for a beautiful, adventurous, and conversational walk at Raystown Lake. This place is a tourist hot spot for boating, kids, education, cookouts, picnics, fishing, and our favorite for the night, hiking. However, we had no idea the night would end with a ride in the back of a park ranger truck.

Old Logger’s Trail was new to both me and my friend.  From the map posted by the parking area we’d complete the trail in 2 hours or less. So we left our water, our cell phone, and everything else you might need (like first aid or flashlights) and we started at the entry point (which we thought we knew which one it was…a map would have been helpful, too).

Alas, we began and it’s wonderful! Conversation about life, trees (and identifying them!), and other random things (centipede creature!) were covered as we hiked along this beautiful path as if it were the Dark Forest from Harry Potter but more of a happier, Tolkien forest with bright colors and sunsets. A steep incline, some huge rocks here and there, views of the lake – what an evening!

Evening turned into night.

We kept following the path to the parking lot but it seemed to take quite awhile. Finally, after stumbling and struggling to find footing in some rocky spots, unable to read posts or markers, too dark to see the blue guide posts, we made it to the section of the trail we believed to be our long awaited parking lot. My friend had to pee and I thought it was about time we finished this sucker. Come on, we had to be in the right spot, right?

5 miles from the right spot!

We were just halfway through the entire trail! We had ended up at a campground where a nightpost fellow was manning the station. At first we asked him about the parking lot and he directed us right over the hill. “Great!” we thought as we took a quick path. But soon to our dismay we discovered this was not our parking lot. We were left with a similar sentiment as Ashton Kutcher “Dude, where’s my car?”

So we scampered up the hill to Mr. Attendant and inquired about about these “parking lots”. Turns out we discover we’re only halfway through, 5 miles from our parking (on paved roads that is) and it’s 9:45pm. The moon’s beams are blocked by lakey cloud coverage and we have two options: 1) Two young women 23 and 21 yrs of age begin walking 5 miles to the car or 2) Call the park rangers for a lift.

Let’s call the taxi in white!

Mr. Attendant, who chuckled with us and offered us chairs that we eventually had to accept because of his hospotality (I was waiting for some iced tea, my goodness) had to take our names and mark it in the activity book. “Great”, I thought, “a bright spot for the background checks. I can see it now: ‘becomes bewildered when estimating distance’.” After briefly sitting and reviewing the map and guide provided at the campground check in/out station, the rangers arrivied with much hilarity and merryment. To make their jovial nature even more robust, my friend shared she works at Raystown 5 days a week (granted, this place is pretty large and she is doing educational things, not hikey path things). Oh, but they still got a kick out of it. One of the guys even recognized her. I was glad she was honest about it because it takes guts to admit something like that if you were concerned about how you’d appear.

So along the ride back to the 1986 Chevy Celebrity the rangers shared stories of people who really get themselves in a pickle – young kids who go off the path, a mother and her 18 month old stranded in a boat at night, and even the elderly who, despite their own health, were more concerned about getting back to their dogs when they were stranded also. They noted that we did ourselves a favor by staying on the path and not becoming distressed or panics. They did remind us to take things along next time (like that flashlight, water, and map stuff I mentioned earlier).

My friend and I laughed about the whole thing on the way home. Sure, maybe this could be no laughing matter in a very serious situation, but we traveled out of tundra of Raystown and have quite a memory. We’ve decided to try something smaller next time, take maps, carry a phone, but still have a fantastic time of conversation, nature, and adventure (without the park rangers).

I might call this season “the summer of fiction” thanks to my new found love and passion: the Harry Potter series.

After a cold and endlessly rainy day I have completed book 2, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. As always, the last several chapters are similar to a time warp where hours fly by, eyes read eagerly, coffee is sipped (or tea, for all those tea lovers out there), and giggles, gasps, and glee is exclaimed in public or private. Thank goodness I was reading at my breakfast table. Coffee shop dwellers would have thought I had gone mad.

I’m enthralled by the whole series. As I took a break to chat with my neighbor/land lady hold a piece of pie (the best pie I think I’ve ever eaten, made by a homemade pie-making guy), one word struck me about this book series (granted, I’m only in book 2!).

Transformation.

Harry Potter, this unlikely character along with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, all experience transformation as time passes at Hogwarts School of Witcraft and Wizardry. The story and their character transform through experiences, riddles, and mysteries as the chapters continue. Brilliant, I say. This very journey seems very reminiscent of our higher education system – a time of transformation.

Let’s go back a bit. I mentioned my landlady/neighbor who gracious gave me the lovely slice of apple pie to warm up my day (and my waistline, hehe). She shared about her exciting day traveling to different facilities through Home Nursing Agency and the different services provided to not only the elderly who are homebound or unable to care for themselves alone but also those struggling through grieving, mental disabilities, or emotional struggles. I could tell by the way she was retelling her exciting day that there was something that took all of this home for her. It was the fact that she, a teacher and caretaker, she loves the thing I mentioned before: transformation.

And then I think to what transformation in the Spirit means. Jesus may be regarded to some as a revolutionary, a great teacher, a historical figure, or a honey-browned hair white fellow on stained glass windows, but all these definitions fall short. In fact, just about any word we can come up with seems to fall short, in my opinion. But what touches my heart about this Jesus we read about in Scripture is the transformation he brings. A blind man in the book of John is given sight, an adultrous woman is given a second chance, and the feeble hearts of the disciples are strengthened by the Spirit of Christ dwelling in them so that they may reflect His glory to others. If transformation was a business, Christ would be a C.E.O. It’s not just transformation for the physical, but for the whole person. And what touches me most of all is that this transformation isn’t instantanious perfection for being a Christ-follower. It’s this daily process of Christ dwelling in us to restore a broken world to Him. I see this in others, and I see it in myself.

I think 2 Cornithians 5:17-20 says it best:
¹⁸All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: ¹⁹that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting men’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. ²⁰We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us.

Not only are we transform but we live and love to relfect a glory of transformation that comes from God! We join in his appeal to redeem creation! We are ambassadors with Christ to live out this transformation! That’s something I can believe. I choose God not out of fear of hell to save me from flames (that are figurative) just to float in cream cheese clouds (that don’t exist or look a think like heaven).

Transformation.

And so I end this little random passage, highly caffeinated, late in the evening, after finishing a compelling book 2, to make one final statement:

Where can I purchase a Phoenix? (Harry’s feathered friend that helps him defeat the Dark Lord). I’m not a big bird fan, but creature sounds amazing!

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Tonight at Standing Stone Coffee Company we are hosting what is called a “coffee cupping” where partipants can learn more about the origin, history, facts, and brewing methods along with taste testing a few brews straight from our roaster. Below is are some facts and history that was part of the hand-out tonight.

Enjoy some caffeine knowledge – from the cup to the cranium!

______________________________

Intro to  Coffee Cupping

Interesting History

600-800 AD: First known discovery of coffee berries. Legend of goat herder Kaldi of Ethiopia who notices goats are friskier after eating red berries of a local shrub. Experiments with the berries himself and begins to feel happier.

1453: Coffee is introduced to Constantinople by Ottoman Turks. The world’s first coffee shop, Kiva Han, open there in 1475. Turkish law makes it legal for a woman to divorce her husband if he fails to provide her with her daily quota of coffee.

1645: First coffeehouse opens in Italy.

1652: First coffeehouse opens in England. Coffee houses multiply and become such popular forums for learned and not so learned – discussion that they are dubbed “penny universities” (a penny being the price of a cup of coffee).

1600: Coffee, introduced to the West by Italian traders, grabs attention in high places. In Italy, Pope Clement VIII is urged by his advisers to consider that favorite drink of the Ottoman Empire part of the infidel threat. However, he decides to “baptize” it instead, making it an acceptable Christian beverage.

1668: Coffee replaces beer as New York’s City’s favorite breakfast drink.

1668: Edward Lloyd’s coffeehouse opens in England and is frequented by merchants and maritime insurance agents. Eventually it becomes Lloyd’s of London, the best-known insurance company in the world. The word “TIPS” is coined in an English coffee house:  A sign reading “To Insure Prompt Service” (TIPS) was place by a cup.  Those desiring prompt service and better seating threw a coin into a tin.

1727: The Brazilian coffee industry gets its start when Lieutenant colonel Francisco de Melo Palheta is sent by government to arbitrate a border dispute between the French and the Dutch colonies in Guiana. Not only does he settle the dispute, but also strikes up a secret liaison with the wife of French Guiana’s governor. Although France guarded its New World coffee plantations to prevent cultivation from spreading, the lady said good-bye to Palheta with a bouquet in which she hid cuttings and fertile seeds of coffee.

1732: Johann Sevastian Bach composes his Kaffee-Kantate. Partly an ode to coffee and partly a stab at the movement in Germany to prevent women from drinking coffee (it was thought to make them sterile), the cantata includes the aria, “Ah! How sweet coffee taste! Lovelier than a thousand kisses, sweeter far than muscatel wine! I must have my coffee.”

By 1763: Venice has over 2,000 coffee shops.

1886: Former wholesale grocer Joel Cheek names his popular coffee blend “Maxwell House,” after the hotel in Nashville, TN where it’s served.

1942: During W.W.II, American soldiers are issued instant Maxwell House coffee in their ration kits. Back home, widespread hoarding leads to coffee rationing.

1946: In Italy, Achilles Gaggia perfects his espresso machine with a piston that creates a high pressure extraction to produce a thick layer of crema . Cappuccino is named for the resemblance of its color to the robes of the monks of the Capuchin order.

2006: Coffee is the world’s most popular beverage. More than 500 billion cups are consumed each year. It is a world commodity that is second only to oil.

Fast Facts

• More than half of all Americans over the age of 18 — 107 million people — drink coffee daily. On average, U.S. coffee drinkers consume three and a half cups a day apiece.
• Scandinavia boasts the highest per-capita coffee consumption in the world. In Finland, people drink more than four cups of coffee a day on average.
• Medical researchers associate positive health benefits to moderate coffee consumption, including improved mood and the prevention of gallstone and kidney stone formation.
• Coffee is grown in more than 50 countries in South America, Central America, Asia, Africa and the Caribbean. Nearly 25 million farmers worldwide depend on growing coffee for their economic livelihood.
• The fair trade movement was launched in the Netherlands in 1988.
• Fair trade coffee meets several criteria. Growers must be organized into democratically run cooperatives. The cooperatives must agree to independent inspections. They also must use sustainable methods of agriculture. In return, the growers are guaranteed a living wage of at least $1.26 per pound for their coffee (15 cents more if it is grown without pesticides).
• Although fair trade coffee constitutes only 2 percent of the world’s coffee supply, consumer demand for fair trade coffee has grown in the United States — from 1.9 million pounds imported in 1999 to 6.7 million pounds imported in 2001.

Economics of Coffee

• Coffee is the world’s second-most-valuable commodity export by developing countries, after oil. The global coffee industry earns an estimated $60 billion annually. Less than 10 percent of those earnings end up in the hands of coffee farmers.
• Profits for coffee-producing countries have declined dramatically. In 1985, for example, 38 cents of every dollar spent on coffee in the United States returned to producing countries. By 1995, that share dropped to 23 cents — a 40 percent fall.
• During the same period, the price consumers paid for their coffee increased by more than 30 percent.
• In Central America alone, as many as 600,000 coffee farmers and workers have lost their jobs as a result of the coffee crisis, according to World Bank estimates.
• Four major conglomerates — Nestlé, Philip Morris, Procter & Gamble, and Sara Lee — dominate world coffee markets, accounting for 60 percent of U.S. sales and 40 percent of the global coffee trade.
• The world’s top 10 coffee-producing nations, in order of amount produced, are Brazil, Vietnam, Colombia, Indonesia, India, Mexico, Ethiopia, Guatemala, Ivory Coast and Uganda.
• The top 10 coffee-importing countries, in order of amount imported, are the United States, Germany, Japan, France, Italy, Spain, Canada, the United Kingdom, Poland and the Netherlands.

What Affects Your Cup?

Type

• Robusta – grows at lower elevations, has a higher yield per plant, and is more disease resistant.  It is noteworthy for its harsh, dirty flavor and twice as much caffeine as arabica beans.  Robusta is the favorite for most North American canned industries (Maxwell House, etc.).

• Arabica – 75% of the world’s coffee.  Most of it is of poor quality, usually sold at gas stations and fast food restaurants.  10% of arabica coffee is the high grade “specialty” quality.  The specialty coffees grow between 4,000-6,000 feet, between the tropics of Cancer and Capricorn, needing an estimated annual rainfall of 80 inches, with a year-round daily temperature of 60-70 degrees.  This is the type of coffees that the specialty coffee roasters and houses exclusively use.

Location

• The specific Region, Country and Estate in which the coffee was grown

Processing

• Processing of the fruit
  • Wet – cherries soaked in water for 1-2 days until husks fall off.  Uses a lot of water and may affect flavor.
  • Dry – cherries laid out on road or flat areas to dry in sun, then husks are peeled off. Takes 3-4 weeks.
• Age of the green bean – suggested use within one year of processing

Roasting & Blending

• Age of the roasted bean – suggested use within two weeks of roasting
• The specific roaster’s techniques
• Level of Roast –
  • Light roast – “Cinnamon,” “Vienna” or “Full City” characterized by a medium to dark brown color and glossy shine of natural coffee oils.
  • Very Dark roast – “Italian” or “French” characterized by being nearly jet black.  At this level much of the natural coffee flavors are burnt away to be mainly the flavor of the roasting process itself.
• Single Origin or Blend coffee of different types
• Flavored – Soaking the beans in flavor or spraying it on
• Decaffeination – Chemical or water process to extract caffeine, usually destroys flavor

Preparation

• Age of the ground bean – suggested use within 45 minutes of grinding, light and oxygen are the two leading causes of coffee losing its flavor
• Water Quality – 95% of the cup is quality water, purified water is recommended
• Temperature of the Water – Needs to be 195-205 degrees Fahrenheit
• Brewing technique –
  • Coarseness of the Grind
  • Amount of coffee used – experts use 2 tbsp per 6 ounce cup, can use 1 ½, but never 1.  (To dilute, add water, do not reduce grinds.)
  • Drip – paper or mesh filter (adds or removes coffee oils which impact acidity and flavor)
  • Press – lets water permeate the coffee and then clears the grinds for a hardy, full-bodied cup
  • Vacuum – crazy 2-blub system like an hourglass where the water and grinds are mixed at the bottom, but as boiled the coffee goes to the top, separated from the grinds
  • Machine/manual – paper or mesh filters, almost no machines get water temp hot enough, or allow proper space for recommended coffee usage.

Staff photo of folks in my area with the CCO

Above is a great photo of pretty swell folks that I call co-workers for the CCO and dear friends. From the far away lands of Ithica, NY to the familiar parts of Indiana, PA, these committed staff members do more than sharing the Gospel – they live it. With their love for college students, humor, passion, wit, and intentionality, I’m thankful these folks are serving a campus with a vision of the Kingdom. Despite the recent “break up” of this vast area due to area director changes and a few leaving staff, I am comforted in the fact that whether we are on staff together or not, we serve a King and a Kingdom.

Factory work is very monotonous. For example, the assembly line process of doing the same thing over and over again. Attach piece here. Move on. Do the same thing. I can’t say my partnership with the coffee shop is the same, but a few daily tasks (such as dishes or sweeping or portioning sliced deli meat) are great moments of intertwined work and thought.

Among these moments of thoughts, I was reminded about Mother’s Day this previous Sunday. No, I didn’t forget about it. I got a present and a card (being fairly type A prevents those things) but I didn’t deeply think about one thing that intrigued me later- what my Mother has shown and taught me in my life thus far. And so here’s my tribute and reflection upon just a few of the hundreds of things my mother (and many others) have instilled and passed on to me:

Buy it on sale, baby!
Paying full price is probably a sin in my mother’s book (and might be in mine, too). My mother has taught me the value (and lack of value) in items and how to to be a savvy shopper by spending as little as possible. I resisted the thrift store as a young adolescent but over time it became (and still remains) my favorite place to shop.

Rock out!
My dad is a lucky guy when it comes to contests and drawings (but he never played the lottery…hmm). One of the prizes (I believe) was a stereo system complete with record player, CD (that is huge!), tape deck, and radio. Big stuff of the era. But as a kid and even now I can still come home to a house that’s rockin’ to something from Keith Urban to Elton John to John Fogerty. My mom loves music, and she loves it loud. My dad often laughs at the volume level of the car radio when he turns it on and it remains at the volume it was turned off at (a rockin’ volume level, of course). I love listening to music loudly, too. Now to be clear, it’s not the obnoxious level similar to many bass thumping radios in passing cards but a good, melodic sound that is worthy of declaration. Live life loud!

Church sales (and yard sales) are the best sales.
(It’s not just one person’s crap, it’s everyone’s crap.)
In addition to thrift stores, she has passed on to me a deep love for yard sales. My eyes are trained to spot bright colors and scribbley hand writing of poorly instructed directions to a residence. I still memorize street names because you never know when you need directions to garage at 1242 Pine street. They just might have the toaster of your dreams. Give my mother a list and she’ll find it. Most likely, she’ll find three different versions of the item you’re looking for, all under the price of .50 cents.

Pictures are worth a thousand words.
Photos remind, encourage, and even cause me to laugh out loud. I love looking in old picture albums and seeing events of the past. “Did I really look like that?”, “Who is that?”, and “Look, Dad has hair” are just a few the questions I would ask my mother when I look through photo albums. I enjoy doing the same and hope to do so as I take pictures. There’s no shame in taking a camera somewhere because you never know when you need to document a moment, event, or whole day to retell tales of the past.

Take care of yourself.
There’s something I miss about being sick as an adult – I don’t have mom to check up on me, possibly exaggerate my symptoms, and tell me to stay home, lie low, and watch endless hours of TV (or the back of my eyelids, usually. I never catch a simple cold. I catch the plague. I wish I were dying. It’s typically a very prayerful time of my life. “Father, take me now!”).  But even when something needs checked out, there’s a fungus on my foot, or a mole that doesn’t look quite right, I know it’s important to take care of it, no matter how inconvenient or annoying it may be.

Girls communicate different than boys.
Let me explain this one. I’m not here to make some deep psychological thesis on gender communication. Sure, I could spout out some facts and thoughts, but that’s not my mother taught me in this segment. She taught me that sometimes boys (men) aren’t the best people to go to if you need girl talk. I’m not going to go crying to my Dad over my boyfriend dumping me. I want my mom. It varies from person to person, but for me, I’m talking to my mother. Sometimes I need to talk about the great pair of shoes I got for under 5 bucks or my latest hair cut. As much as I like guys as friends, hanging out with guys, and all that the gender encompasses, there’s nothing like girl talk with my best friends. They get me. I love that. And I think that’s something my mom taught me.

You should laugh a lot with the one you love.
I’m blessed to have two parents who still love each other and love to live life together. They laugh a lot (thanks to my father’s witty humor) and enjoy doing things together, and also apart. Because of this, it’s taught me that the fella who I marry should make me laugh. She’s also taught me that married folks don’t spend every waking minute together. They do different things. Simple statement, but very true. My mom doesn’t help in the garage because she always happens to get hurt (strange, but true. It’s how I became the garage helper at a young age. Mom refused. I was recruited, or should I say, drafted).  They watch different TV shows. My dad watches 24, my mom watches American Idol. Being different is a good thing.

Living out #5.
When I was 16 or 17, we moved my maternal grandfather into our home. When my mother told me this, I thought she was out of her mind. Really. My grandfather was a “unique” person, and at the age of 90 he was still living alone in a huge farm house. His eating habits were poor and his Alzheimer’s disease was progressing.

He moved in with us and lived with us for three years. These three years were very trying on the family, mostly my mother. She became more than his power of attorney – she was his primary caretaker 24-7. I thank God for the people at VNA (visiting nurses association). Without their visits, I think it would have been even more difficult than it was (which is hard to imagine). My mother gave up her job, her social life, and her freedom to live out commandment #5 from Exodus – Honor thy father and mother.

There were good days. There were bad. But through it all, I can’t imagine not having that experience. Sure, I knew there was an “ultimate reasoning” in why the family was going through such a tough season, but I had no idea all thing things I’d learn from that time.  Looking back, I see that he had the best care in the county, far beyond anything an assisted living facility could ever provide. He had a friendly cat at his side to the end, endless blankets, clean sheets, clean clothes, constant assistance, extreme graciousness and patience bestowed (believe me on that!), and a wonderful diet. My mother even took him off useless and draining medications to improve the quality of his well-lived life. From appointments to accidents, she was there.

So often I hear the stories of elderly who are sent to rest homes to live life alone (if they weren’t already). With the cost of assisted living facilities, you’d think the care and community of such places would be top-notch. Some places to respect and give dignity to those in their senior years, but others strip away that honor that our mothers and fathers deserve. My mother stood apart from that. We didn’t have the finances to place my grandfather in a rest home, and don’t get us wrong, we had many days that we wish we did! Grandpa was a stickler! He got into trouble! But I don’t think that my mother would stand for poor care even if we did have the money. If he would have went to a rest home, it would have to be top-notch.

She lived and still lives out #5. Even though her mother passed many years ago when she was so young, I tagged along to plant flowers and learn how to dig holes for pansies and water with care. I still go to her for plant care 101. Goggle is sometimes too long in it’s search results. It’s a lot quicker and a lot wiser to call the one who knows all the secret tricks to why your plant is a horrible color, drooping and lifeless. (I guess you could call this another lesson from mom).

The Green Thumb (see above paragraph).

This blog post could be endless, I’m sure of it. But these are a few thoughts of the day and a thankfulness to my mother and all those other mother’s out there who taught and continue to teach. To you I thank you from the bottom of my heart, and especially a very bottom of mine for my own mama-roo.

Thank you.

I love you.

Happy Belated Mother’s Day.

Shake with love

Baby cousin trying on for size mom's bandana

Happy Birthday Ma!