Craving Coffee & Company.

Since Sunday night I've been craving coffee & company. The company, I can understand...but coffee? Liana the tea drinker...wants coffee?!

Yes.

 An unfamiliar desire, but perhaps that's a part of my growing up a little more this year. A cup of tea is loveliest, even if coffee can taste like hot cocoa.

Three nights later, along comes Wednesday, bringing me company! Some of my oldest and dearest friends came...books! For some it may seem strange, but I find that some of my wisest friends come from distant lands or are found in the words of those now long gone. When I was young, sometimes my Mom and I would go to coffee shops to read, she was an avid coffee drinker until tea became her preferred choice. 

As you know, my parents are big dreamers and great readers. Now, the particular book is quite dear to my heart. You see, my friend, John Manalo (nothalfhearted), passed away in May 2011, 6 months before my Mom did. The year prior, he had left for a school in Texas after reading The Dream Giver by Bruce Wilkinson. My parents lent him that book. The very same book I was reading tonight. He was a big dreamer too.

The parable is about a young man named, Ordinary, who leaves the land of familiar in pursuit of his Big Dream. The same type of Big Dream that beats in everyone's heart--even if they feel like they've lost it along the way.

As I read, it was not long before I began to weep. After almost two long years, we finally found the quote for her headstone.

Excerpt from the Dream Giver by Bruce Wilkinson 

One day, Ordinary came across a Wounded Warrior lying on a quiet hill.
Ordinary dropped by her side. "How can I help you?" he asked.
"My wounds are too many and great," she said. "This will be my dying place."
~~~
Ordinary's heart broke. "But why would the Dream Giver let you be defeated?" Ordinary asked. "You've come so far. You have to finish your Big Dream!"
She had no reply.
Night fell. The Wounded Warrior grew weaker. Finally, in the darkness, she said, "Tell me the Name of your Dream."
After Ordinary did, the Warrior was quiet for a time. Then she spoke, "That is the Name of my Dream, also," she said. "I fought Giants ahead of you. You will fight more after me. But we have the same Big Dream." 

In the first light of dawn, she spoke for the last time.
"Death is not defeat," she whispered. "It is my victory." 

That morning, Ordinary buried his Warrior friend on the hilltop. Then he sat for a long time, looking across the hills and valleys. He thought about the Warrior's life, and about her death. He thought about her dying words. And he became certain that he would not have gotten this far on the path to his Dream if his friend had not gone before him. 

Finally, Ordinary took his white long feather and wrote the Truth on her headstone:

Here lies a Mighty Warrior.

She finished her Dream.