Candy Cane Lane Parade

Lawn chairs, blankets, and mittens lined our Downtown’s Main Street. Festive floats piled with bundled caroling children pulled by horses and diesels anxiously awaiting their turn for their moment to shine. It was our first time entering but we had the right combination of people who pulled together for two weekends in a row to create an award winning “210” float! A special thanks to Betsy Wolf for the design of the float, the P.R. team, you guys rock! Marshall Pulliam for coming all the way from Fresno to play music on our mini stage, I’m sure you froze up there! And the Bennett’s for the rad ride they let us use! Thank you to everyone who walked, “floated”, cheered, hammered, and hung the lights to literally get this thing off the ground! Watch for us strolling down Main St. next year, cause were getting First Place!

A wooden canvas

Last Sunday a grip of people gathered inside the boarded up building to write prayers and bible verses on the enterer wooden walls before they become plastered and painted, over the next few weeks. I found a place to rest my pen and wrote on the inside of the coffee shop “kitchen” door frame while water pushed its way to the forefront of my eyes making it difficult to see what I was poring out from my heart and onto the wooden canvas. It is amazing to see so many people giving of their time, and money to something they have not seen. Simply having faith and trust in what the Lord is doing and going to do in this place is a sure sign that the Lord has in some recognizable way affected their lives and they understand through experience how BIG God truly is.

Doorway became a breezeway real quick

Latley, I feel like I have those blue and red 3D shades on. Steal supports, welded iron framing, and massive wooden beams are transforming the 210 blueprints we have all been staring at for so long into a 3D masterpiece!

I watched today in amazement wandering how the men on the construction site were able to remove an entire section of the wall without the rest of it crumbling to the cement floor…and then it did…yep part of the 100 year old wall is no longer 100 years old. Luckily no one was hurt, though I’m sure some of those men were dropping bits of bricks out of their shorts the rest of the day.

“FREE” is something you don’t even hear at yard sales!

I got a phone call from Trish Smith, one of the ladies on the design committee for 210 the other day. Trish, Lynn, Carolyn, and I had received a message from Don saying that someone in the community was donating a warehouse full of furniture to 210! Don and I were pretty skeptical and thought it was probably really old and not worth going out to see, but of course I was wrong… again, and when Trish called to tell me it was all brand spakn’ new I thought Christmas had come early and needed a bigger stocking! “Colette they called me again and let me know they have a ton of to-go coffee cups, it has some other logo printed on them if that’s ok, is that something we could use?” “Trish! Are you serious? Yeah!!!!!” Here I was worried about the start up costs for the coffee shop and just like that God meets our needs again…and again. So now we have furnishings for the conference, and prayer room…for free! Let me not forget the other amazing office furniture store that is giving us a HUGE discount, storing what we buy until move in day, AND giving us FREE delivery!!!!Not to send out the message that we don’t need any more help by all means! But one blessing at a time we getting closer and closer to completion. Thank you to everyone that can and has helped us get this thing started!

2:10 am

So yesterday was my 25 birthday and every year my Mom and Dad tell the birthing story of my arrival, just like folks tell the nativity story at Christmas, and just like the children do after hearing the same 'ol story one to many times, I began to recite the facts and details of my birth. "Mom, I know, I know, don't even start telling me the story again...I was born on the same day as the Corcoran Cotton Day Parade, you stayed up all night the night before finishing costumes for the kids in Dad's 4th grade class and then, blah blah blah I was born in the Hanford hospital at 2:10 in the morning...Woah, Mom… I was born at 2:10 in the morning…210!? That is so weird." My dad then declared in his silly preacher man voice, "The Lord knew what you were going to do even before you were born!" Even though I had heard the verse, "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you." I had comprehended it in an almost fairytale type of understanding, you know, God put that in the Bible just to make you feel special, just to make you feel loved…It also says God knows the number of stars that are in the sky, the number of sand on the sore, apparently he knows how many hairs are on your head too…it all sounds cool, but really? Come on, why would He take the time, why would He care about that? I mean He couldn’t know EVERYONE, just the important people to him like Abraham, and King David, and Moses...those guys, right? Hearing what my Dad said about be being born at 2:10 gave life and breathed truth into my viewed fairytale type verses…HE KNOWS ME… Why do I continue to read TRUTH but yet continue to deny TRUTH. God means what he says, He never changes his mind, and when He says He knows us before we were even born, He’s not just saying that to make “un-planned” children feel planned, He is declaring that NO child is an accident, no birth unwanted by him. We are His, and He KNOWS us, and now I know it, really know it. No more questions asked, no more doubting or reading the verses and interpreting them the way I want them to sound. When He says it, my only job is to believe it.

Hammers and Nails!

OH MY GOSH THE WALLS ARE UP! Finally the building we looked at on paper is taking on a physical form. Its strange how a building can appear smaller at different points during the building process and then open back up again. I can't wait for them to start pouring the final concrete and painting the walls! yesterday I got a call from a local church saying they took an offering for 210 and wanted to send it our way for a donation! Such a cool thing to do as church body! I feel like people are starting to understand the vision of this place. 210 is about people, for people, and most of all NEEDS people to make it there home, outlet, and ministry. I LOVE that a community is willing and wanting to join in a vision together. Speaking of, this Monday an awareness and benefit concert about the slavery and human trafficking that's going on in America, is being held at the First Assembly Church in Visalia at 7:30 its free and you should come and learn about what is going on. The only warning I'll give is, when you become aware, what will you do? Change is a reaction to tragedy...I want to learn about the tragedy so I can change.

The Never Ending Story…continues.

It’s a year later from when I first walked into Don’s office in September 2006. and there is sooooo much to be done before we open 210 in January 2008…yes of course the building still needs to be built up but so does my heart. Even through all of the blessings, through all of the “Yes’s” and amazing people that have stepped forward to help or donate in HUGE ways…I still doubt my abilities… I still fear failure…I still think “WHY ME LORD?”. It’s all so unbelievable that he loves us THIS much, he loves us enough to reveal himself everyday to us in so many ways! I just need to remember to, like in that one movie “Facing the Giants” that Glen from Elevate let me borrow (thanks Glen) “We will praise him when we win and we will praise him when we lose.” 210 is coming and HE is the only reason we will be ready, and the only one who can prepare us. I feel so lucky to have such a loving, competent, reliable, trustworthy, generous, dream making, heart melting, peace providing, grace overflowing, faithful God. Through all my weaknesses you are stronger.

The “Don” of a new day…

I sat by my parents pool were I had been living for the last few months, preparing for what I would say to Don, and how I would say it…There were two things I didn’t want to happen during the meeting #1 I didn’t want to loose my validity (because I get so excited about this dream, I sometimes don’t explain myself well and sound a little crazy…) #2 I didnt want to come across sounding like my way was the “right” or only way to run this…if they wanted to build this building to enlarge their church campus great, that just wasn’t where I was headed. I realized my best bet was to make an outline…no, have two key words that summed up my business plan…the words came to me, "Unity" and "Community"…I ran inside the house and grabbed a really big Bible, the kind with random words you can look up and find Bible verses for…I picked Ephesians 4:4-6. I met with Don and another man named Rob Herman that afternoon in Don’s office and in hand was that huge Bible along with my thrift store 70’s suitcase filled with dreams and a business plan. “Don before we start I want to read a Bible verse that basically sums up my business plan and everything that I am trying to convay.” I opened my honking huge Bible and read, “There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to one hope when you were called— one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.” I was so worried that I wouldn’t be "heard"…again…but before I even finished reading the verse and explaining why I chose it…Don and Rob’s ears were opened and for the first time, not mine, but GOD’s plan was heard… They loved my ideas, loved them! Even the ones I was afraid to share ‘cause they seemed a little TOO out there. Nothing was being shot down…nothing disregarded…I felt God’s love being poured out through the way these men responded. I continued to share every idea under the sun with these men and for two hours we talked and tear-ed, and laughed at God’s Big plan. “You mean to tell me that in 2005 you were writing this business plan at college in Irvine while we were purchasing the Bogart’s and Lulu’s building?” “Yep.” “Colette, do yo know that of all the verses you could have chose to read from the Bible, you chose the one that was picked by the elders and deacons to represent the year for this church…its on my wall signed and framed behind me…” When I left Don’s office I didn’t know whither to laugh, or cry…so I danced all the way to my car.

The Blue Prints

Mike and I met at Tazzeria where I had just started working. I walked in carrying all my dreams in thrift store suitcase covered with 1970’s bright colors and floral designs. My mouth opened and I spewed out everything that I had thought up and stored up over the years, sounding I’m sure, more like one giant mess to Mike than a dream. “Lord! Please!” I prayed silently under my breath. “Please!!! Give me the words to say, please show him I am serious about this and that this is all for YOU, THIS IS ALL FOR YOU!!!!” I’m not sure what he really thought about my attempt to try to explain the dream that the Lord had given to me of running a coffee shop. “You see, it’s a coffee shop…I was thinking it would be awesome to have people donate different mugs…lectures and artists and music…I have this business plan I wrote in college…warm tone colors, and comfy couches…people helping each other learn new skills…” I wasn’t even making sense to MYSELF! Poor Mike he was kind enough to not think I was a crazy lady and walked me over to the church to meet a man named Don McClure. Now, my parents raised me to be able to hold my own, and I decided long ago that there was no reason why I should let someone intimidate me…to put it simply Don did. So you’re the coffee lady.” Don had heard about me from Mike apparently and after a brief informal interview Don pulled out the blue prints of what was to become 210. My jaw dropped open, and I pushed back the tears that had begun to well up in my eyes as I stood there leaning over Don’s desk…brick walls separated the music hall from the specked coffee shop location in the building…I remembered the journal entry from 2003 with this very vision of what I saw it looking like… I was sure this was project the Lord had called me too and prepared me for. Then Don explained, the in-reach services it would provide for the church…my heart sank a little… “Don, maybe I can’t be of help, like I thought I could, I mean I’ll give you my business plan and you are free to use any and or all of it…it’s just that the Lord has called me to be apart of an out-reach type of ministry involving churches, creating unity amongst believers and supporting the community around us. He responded, “Let’s meet this week, I want to see your business plan and hear what you have to say.” “Do you what me to just give you guys some idea’s for what you could do, or do you want me to present what the Lord has been stirring in me to start?” He answered, “I want to hear about what you want to do.” I went home to collect my thoughts, dreams, and 25 pages of a business plan.

IF…I DO jump, will there be pillows under me?

A new college age service had begun to gather together and met on Sunday nights at the Convention Center called Elevate. An old friend from high school had invited me on the first night it started and she was a month or so later, asking me again if I would like to join her. The church I go to (now called Radiant), at this time was still meeting on Sunday nights in different homes, I hated to miss fellowshipping with everyone, so I hesitantly declined her offer to go with her. Then I met John who had regularly attended Elevate and he for what ever reason mentioned to me out of the blue that the First Pres. Church was going to be opening a music venue and possibly a coffee shop at the old Bogart’s and Lulu’s. This was now the second time I had heard this. “yeah, I heard that! Where is the First Pres. Church located? And who can I talk to, I need to talk to someone about these ideas I have and give someone my business plan.” He tried his best to explain where the church was located but wasn’t to the point where I was ready to waltz into the church office… quite yet… so he invited me to go with him that Sunday night to Elevate to met a guy named Mike. “ Dude just come to Elevate Sunday night and talk to Mike he plays worship for them some nights and is a youth pastor at the Pres. Church, he’ll get you connected to Don, or who ever you need to talk to.” Two different invites for that night, and I new I was supposed to go. Of course I went…I saw John first at the door and he pointed Mike out to me on stage. “That’s him, just talk to him afterwards.” I was sooooo scared, I mean so many people had ignored my dream and hadn’t taken me serious for so long. I passed his wife Sarah who I realized later was someone I had gone to Jr. High with, as I approached the stage. I was going to give it a shot, I had nothing to lose, and even if I wasn’t taken seriously, or just sounded crazy again, no one could take this God given dream from me, even if I had to wait another seven years. “Hi, my name is Colette; I hear the First Pres. Church might have some plans to have a coffee shop in the near future. I’ve written this business plan, and it’s been a dream for a long time of mine to start something like this, I was wondering if I could meet with you, or someone at the church sometime to share some of my ideas with you guys.” “That sounds awesome, yeah lets met up.” And just like that, after 7 years my first door cracked opened.

You can’t just look at the dirt if you want mud pies

After about 2 months of working at “The Bucks” (this is hard for me to even admit at this point…) I actually thought after all of this dreaming, after all of these “suggestions” on what to do from the Lord, after writing a business plan, after looking foolish in front of multiple groups of people, and after buying cups and plates at thrift stores out of obedience…I actually came to the conclusion that Starbucks was it…that I was to work towards to becoming a manager and do the best I could to create a ambiance of community and love for people…I called out to Him again. “Ok, Lord, if this is what you have for me, I praise you.”

Even though I was convinced that God was only preparing me to become a manager of a Starbucks someday, I continued to sit at the tables and converse during my breaks I kept getting more and more ideas for the coffee shop and it seemed like there was no way to get them out of my head. Day after day I took a piece of paper or even a Starbucks napkin and pen with me on my breaks, everything from hours of operation to dress codes began to pour out of me. My mind stormed into the clouds and rained out all the details. It felt more like I was running a race than journaling my thoughts. Ideas were coming to me faster than my hand could write. I couldn’t understand why I felt such a sense of urgency? Writing out possible shift times and marketing plans? What was going on? I didn’t realize the reason it was urgent was because I was working on deadline, God’s deadline. I couldn’t see it from the Starbucks coffee window over looking the Caldwell and Mooney store I worked at, but God was moving me towards his master plan. “It’s time to quit.” I didn’t ask any questions. Wither or not it was the Lord, I didn’t care, I wanted to quit, even though I said I would be ok with what he has for me, deep down I didn’t want it to be Starbucks. I quite and got a job with James and Michele at Tazzeria, a coffee and sandwich shop on Main Street which I loved to go to. Then one month later, on a Sunday night in September, 2006 I met Mike Lorah who worked at the church with a coffee shop in mind…

The Foreshadowing…

It was my first summer back in the V, and I, having a “she’s just one of the guys”, type of personalities found myself having a blast with a group of boys who liked to go ditch boarding…yep, there I was trying to stand on a flat piece of wood holding onto a rope that is attached to a truck and surfing inside the disgusting water of someone’s farmland ditch. Anyway, one day while I was hanging out with one of the ditch boarding boys we happened to drive down Center Street and passed the old Bogart’s and Lulu’s place. He turned to me and said, “Hey, have you heard what they are turning that old bar into?” “No, I just moved back here remember.” What he said next stuck in my brain like peanut butter to my jelly. “The Presbyterian Church bought it and they’re thinking about putting a coffee shop in it.” I nearly fell out of my seat in his truck, my hands flew up in the air with excitement, I tried to speak but nothing that came out of my mouth was making any sense. I oddly enough hadn’t shared with him my dream of running a coffee shop “involving churches,” nor had I shown him my journal where I wrote in 2003, “I see brick walls, I see metal fences.” I tried to explain what he just said could very well change my life, but he, nor I realized just how weighty his comment really was.

Obstacles build character and endurance isn’t for the weak.

Yes the last presentation I made at church made me feel foolish, man I felt stupid, so I began to fight, fight my doubting thoughts, fight my will that wanted to give up, fight the lies that had crept up in me, and fight for the life the Lord had planed out ahead of me. I needed a job and the only one I had my heart set on was at Starbucks so I went to a job fair at the Tulare Fair grounds in April 2006, I marched right up to the Starbucks recruit table and expected them to hand over a manager position at the nearest available location… after all I DID have a B.A. didn’t that mean anything?…apparently not , but I did become a barrista before I left. I thought, if I’m going to learn how to make coffee and how to become a manager, Starbucks of all places has all the answers. So for the next three months I learned, and worked, and wore that silly black hat and green apron…I hate conformity but I came to really appreciate that black hat when I rolled out of bed for my 4:30am shift…yep, 4:30 AM. Anyway all the while I worked at Starbucks we had these “mandatory” breaks, two 10 minute breaks and one 30 minute break. When I first started working there I found myself hiding in the back storage room during these “breaks”. I hated breaks cause I just sat there for 10 whole minutes, staring at a wall feeling more like I was in a “time out” than on a break from working. Anyway, I decided enough was enough, no more staring at the walls waiting for my break alarm to go off, if I was going to manage a coffee house differently than Starbucks I needed act accordingly. No, not wear a purple apron and a sun hat, but interact. You see I wanted to start a coffee place that was set up for the employees to not just work but also form friendships, create community, and find out different peoples needs that needed to be met and see if we could help them or connect them with someone who could, but I was too busy moping about how I didn’t have any friends, I was living with my parents, and working for min. wage at Starbucks wearing that silly black hat, that I missed out on practicing what I was dreaming to do. I needed to put myself out there, even if it was uncomfortable, even if no one else I worked with was doing it, and I need to see if connections with the “dinning in” costumers could be made in ten minutes increments. After putting myself out there and becoming available for conversation, I found out everyone has a story. Whether it is interesting or not doesn’t even matter to them, they just want to be heard, and I began to love to listen, and of course, share a little myself…after all I like to be heard too!

If your never disappointed you never tried hard enough.

Seven years of saying “I’m going to run a coffee shop when I grow up.” Seven years of telling people all about this dream. Seven years of looking for a business partner. Seven years of feeling like a fool, buying and collecting cups, mugs, plates at thrifts stores and yard sales. And now, after all of this, “To grow up you’ve gotta go home,”
directed my paths back to Visalia and I found myself lost, afraid, lonely, humiliated…and living at home. “what if it never happens what if you never get your coffee shop and you moved home for nothing?” the voice of common sense, the voice I’m sure, many people hear right before they give up their dreams and live a life going to work everyday like everyone else. Doubt, lots of doubt settled in my heart, did God actually tell me to go home? Did God actually tell me to involve churches? I re-found some of my old friends that I had gone to youth group with in Visalia and found out that they were meeting in different homes on Sunday nights. Travis Aicklin an old childhood friend and now my pastor was starting to talk about dreams, dreams that people once had and now for what ever reason don’t go after them anymore. He for what ever reason, remembered how in high school I used to dream and talked about how to wanted to run a coffee shop someday, and asked me if I wanted to share that dream and where I am at with it in my life the following Sunday night. I was pumped! Here was a chance for me to sales pitch this idea to a group of Christians all at once! I looked and treated this night as if it was a business meeting. I was sure someone would want to be my business partner after my enthusiastic, organized, and well presented business pitch. I printed two copies of the 25 page business plan that I had written in college, one for me, and one for my new business partner. Sunday evening rolled around and I arrived at Travis’s home ready to praise God for bringing me home so I could met my partner and start this coffee shop. I entered his living room and looked around wondering who I might be. My parents came too, that meant so much to me…I came, I “sold”, and I left with 2 business plans still in my hand…

Sometimes when you can’t find a missing puzzle piece and you accidentally vacuum it up...

...it’s just not meant to be found until you give up looking for it, put the puzzle away, and take the trash out.
Come to find out, the reason school was always very difficult for me was because I am a little dyslexic and a little A.D.D. School just wasn’t my cup of tea, but I pushed through and finished the whole kettle. I said goodbye to Concordia University on May 2005 and hello to rent, bills, and work…I was juggling 3 jobs at one point; a nanny for two boys in Irvine, a youth leader at a church in Lake Forest, and a waitress at a vegan restaurant down the street from my apartment in Costa Mesa. I was living with Tiffany, Julie, and Marlayna, my “sisters” that I met and lived with in college and despite all of the work chaos, life was good. I never did like Orange County. From the moment I arrived at school, the people, the attitudes, I was a v-town girl with wild curly brown hair and the only plastic thing on me was my retainer (which I still wear at night, thank you Dr. McAuliff) basically I stuck out like a sore thumb. Anyway, the point is, for the first time in the 5 years that I lived in the O.C. I finally felt like I was home. I was getting to really know people in Costa Mesa…yes, most of them had plastic “additions” to their bodies, but I got to know their hearts and because I was so focused on how fake they were on the outside, I missed out on getting to know how beautiful many of them were on the inside. “Tiffany, I know you’re from the O.C. I’m sorry I always talk crap about the people from here, I seriously have this crazy feeling that God won’t call me to leave this place until I choose to love, truly love this place.” Tiffany and I were roommates for 5 years and for at least 4 of those years she heard me bash and complain, and mock all the fake people I saw. So when my heart finally let go of all the judgment and I began to love and cherish the people around me, I knew the Lord was getting ready to move me… and that’s when I heard… “TO GROW UP YOU’VE GOT TO GO HOME.” Sounding like a cheerleader at a Pop Warner football game, over and over again that phase rang in my ears. I didn’t know what could be more frustrating, not hearing anything from the Lord, or hearing what he was calling me to do next. “This doesn’t make sense Lord, growing up is NOT going home…live with my parents again? After 5 years of proving to them and myself that I can live on my own, and NOW I’m suppose to rely on them? Ask for help? This is not GROWING!” I fought and fought to convince God that this couldn’t possibly be what he was asking of me until I broke the news to Tiff in tears laying on our Costa Mesa cockroach infested apartment floor. “Tiff, I think I am supposed to move home…” I hated the thought of braking up our family of four but I knew over time and turmoil that even though “To grow up you’ve got to go home.” made no sense it to me then, God was clearly asking me to trust…and to obey…and to praise him anyway. I thought of the worship song often during this time “He gives and takes away, he gives and takes away, my heart will chose to say, blessed be the name of the Lord.” I packed my bags, and through tears in my eyes I said goodbye to the girls.

You can talk the talk but can you walk the…plank?

It was my last year of college, my roommates of 3 and 5 years, by this point, became my sisters, and I for the first time was not ready to leave the comfort of school. Graduation, along with a birds nest push, we found ourselves just months away from being flung into the world and into our futures. I needed a few more random credits to be able to graduate. To my surprise they were offering an “Entrepreneurship” class… I wasn’t even really sure what an entrepreneur was, but I was going to learn how to write a business plan…my coffee shop business plan, these were credits worth counting. Three of my girlfriends were business majors in the class and saved my life, the final assignment in the class was of course writing a business plan, and to my benefit it was a group project. “Colette you want to write a business plan for your coffee shop huh.” Just like every other friend, they new my agenda and didn’t dare stand in the way. My dream for the first time was written and presented to a large group. I stood in front of the group explaining and selling my “plan” to the class… “God is my niche.” A room full of students at a Christian college looked at me dumb founded. “It’s a secular coffee shop, with a Christian undertone.” I paused a while and then started again. “I want to unify the churches of a community to come together to pray and support one other on neutral ground allowing the coffee shop to be a home base for prayer and outreach. No crosses on the walls, no pews for seating, a safe place for people to connect and be loved, and of course drink coffee.” I looked at them as they stared back at me. I was sure the Lord would put someone in the class who had the same passion as me, someone who knew the business part of starting a coffee shop. You see, like I said before, I’m stubborn, and the Lord knows it. No one from the class confronted me with a similar excitement and passion of wanting to start a coffee shop of this kind…I was feeling disheartened. So, I prayed…again. “Lord, I don’t understand all the logistics of starting a coffee shop, I don’t understand numbers and charts, nor do I want to try to learn how…I just want to design and run it, I need you to send me someone who knows how to start this thing, please send me someone! I want to do your will, and I believe that this is it!”

You know it’s the Lord when it doesn’t make sense.

I was home from college for another Christmas break. I, of course, was trying to quit college again and found myself looking up culinary schools online, I figured learning how to bake might be a step in the right direction. “What about involving churches?” I heard the Lord speak gently to my heart. I, being inpatient at this point, didn’t respond so gently. “What do you mean ‘what about involving churches?’ What does that mean Lord, why won’t you explain yourself! Why do you only give me a piece of what you want me to do! Why don’t you just give me your full plan in its entirety? I don’t understand you! This is so frustrating, what churches? Where? How? Who do I talk to? Tell me! Please!” I waited for his answer, but I heard nothing more. I thought, ok Lord, you said, “What about involving churches?”, so I’ll do what every college kid does best, Google the answer. I had no idea where to begin or what city to involve churches in. I was left running on some rabbit trial that just led me into a sand trap of frustration. If Google didn’t have the answer I didn’t know who did. I mean, surly God was not calling me back to Visalia, too many people knew me there, they would never take me serious, and I’m sure over the years, I’ve made not so “Christian” decisions. So there I was again for the next few months before the end of my junior year, pondering, googling, and asking friends what they all thought it meant, all too soon discover that I had once again tried to figure it out, and do it on my own. This dream of mine was to much for me to dream alone, I needed someone to believe in me, besides the ‘ol Italians back home, someone to push me forward and “see” this coffee shop too! In walked Rachel Rosenberry, a kindred spirit type of girl that I had met my freshman year and though she had graduated we remained friends and she soon became my confidant, and my confidence. She I giggled and dreamed of our lives together and what they would look like once we had the coffee shop, and it wasn’t until she got married to Peter and moved to Japan that I realized she wasn’t supposed to be my partner in business but my partner in dreaming. Everyone needs someone to dream with, someone they trust with the silliest of ideas and someone to remind you of reality when the dreaming gets to cloudy. Thank you Rachel for walking me through my dream.

You can’t expect people to change if you don’t run towards change yourself.

I was feeling crazy, there I was, my second year of college and I was so consumed by this dream I could hardly focus on anything else. Thoughts and ideas came pouring in, and set me nearly into a panic attack. I called home again in tears. “Dad, I need to come home, not everybody is made for school, and it’s a waste of my time. I need to get a job, so I can save up for the coffee shop, I’m not learning anything I’m going to be using, this is a waste of my time!” I decided to stay when they got fed up with my dramatic attempt to quit again and told me to go to a trade school. And I’m glad I did. I walked into the coffee shop in my mind a hundred times a day, I could taste it, I could smell it, it was painful to see it so clearly and yet not know how to get to it. What was my next step? I hit a wall, I begin hating all these thoughts that made me feel so crazy, I felt out of control. Something had to change…something had to change IN me. I began to pray… “Lord, I don’t want this…I don’t want this dream anymore, take it from me, I don’t know where you want me, I don’t know where to start, I feel crazy, I’m scared, I cant do it on my own, I cant do it on my…own.” I knew right then, I had been trying to do this on my own, yes he gave me the dreams, yes he flooded my thoughts with ideas and visions, yes I felt overwhelmed, but all to point me to him, all to bring me to his feet, all to show me that I needed him…I can not, will not… do this on my own.

You only fail, if you never try.

I kept imagining my life, years later with a husband and a family telling them. “You know I used to want to run a coffee shop…(sigh).” And then proceed to describe it to them in full detail, as if it actually existed, every idea, every color, every menu idem in the coffee shop. This horrific reoccurring nightmare actually scared me to move into my next step of craziness. I decided to breathe this self-proclaimed job description of running a coffee shop into reality. I left for college with zeal, and expectation of learning how to start a coffee shop in my Business 101 class…talk about disappointment! “You mean this eighty dollar book I just bought won’t just tell me how to do it???” One semester and a headache of business terms later, I was ready to come back home and figure it out for myself. “Mom, I’m 18, I can do what I want! (typical) college isn’t teaching me a thing about coffee shops. I just feel like I need to come home and work so I can make money and buy a building and…” I looked at every abandoned window on Main Street during Christmas break, though I had no intention of starting the coffee shop in Visalia. “Colette, please, please finish college, I never did, and I could kick myself for it. It’s just four years, and if you still want to start a coffee shop, then do it.” My Mom begged and pleaded with me to finish college… and so I did, and all the while I dreamed, and drew, and journaled about this imaginary coffee shop with brick walls, and metal fencing, filled with regulars and seekers of truth, lecture givers and music makers. Yes, brick walls…yes, lecture halls…the scary thing about dreaming, I found out, is that it can leave you feeling kinda crazy…a little nuts…and deffenantly annoying. “Here, she goes again, telling people about her coffee shop.” I figured if I told enough people I was sure someone was going to “hear” me, I mean really “hear” me.

Who defines your boundaries?

I had no idea how hard it was going to be to tell my parents what I wanted to do when I grew up. I think what scared them the most, was knowing how stubborn I am. I didn’t understand why it was so hard for them to encourage me to pursue my passion. I mean, they saw me working the crowds at Rosa’s, stressed and still smiling, why didn’t they see what Songe and Luigi saw “I hate to say this Colette, because I don’t wish running a business on my worst enemy, but you can do this, you have what it takes”…come to find out, it was the risk of failure my parents worried about. “Colette, we just don’t want to see you fail, we don’t want you to have to struggle through life. Coffee shops and restaurants are too risky, they don’t always work out, besides were not business owning kinda people. Become a teacher, work for the state, those are jobs secure.” I didn’t want to see me fail either, sure I could do the “secure” job thing, and I’d be happy, but never passionate about doing them. We only get to live once right? I graduated from Redwood High School on June 6, 2001. It had been exactly 20 years sense my parents wedding, and 20 years sense my uncle Robert came to visit us in the Valley (its dang hot here I totally understand). Now my uncle Robert is a very intelligent man, and someone I respect, and on this particular day he asked me a very common question… “Colette, what do you want to do when you grow up?” he sat there in the living room, I am sure ready to hear what most kids say as they are heading off to college and into the big unknown world of freedom and discovery, but I didn’t give them the ‘ol “I don’t know.” I told him what I was going to do. “I’m going to run a coffee shop.” Now my family is known for their laugh, in fact my grandmother once told me that’s how she met my grandfather, she heard his deep, loud, belly shakin’, head thrown back, laugh from across the room…but any way that’s beside the point. So my uncle Robert, with his fathers laugh, nearly busted a gut until he saw I was serious. Then he asked me a very valuable question, he said, “Really…what’s your niche?” What the heck was a niche? “You know, what sets you apart from all the rest?” My answer was simple, yet didn’t make much sense “God.”

Change your life not your dreams

Almost 9 years ago I went on a road trip with my folks to the East Coast. You have to understand, I’m an only child, and a road trip at age 16 when cell phones were only for the rich and famous and came with cords connected into your car, digital cameras weren’t even thought of, and laptops?... why would someone put a computer on their lap? You’d brake your legs if you set that bulky thing on your lap! Just to paint the picture a little more, at sixteen I wasn’t so sweet looking…I was just plain awkward with my short curly hair, braces, and painfully looking nerdy glasses from Wal-mart. Now during this part of my life, and until I left for college years later, I worked at Rosa’s Italian Restaurant in Visalia for Songe and Luigi and I loved it. I love the people, the food, the fast stressful pace. Talking with strangers and making them feel like family became my favorite activity. I realized I love to love people and I knew that running and managing a place of my own would allow me to do this. This became my answer to “what do you want to do when you grow up?” for the next 7 years. With each pit-stop on our family trip out East, came more ideas, more visions of thematic venues, and more passion to actually pursue this wild hair that had begun to grow inside of me. This road trip, accompanied with the lack of distracting devises, gave me one of two options; stare at the back of my fathers thinning hair or sketch out every detail of “my” place on my Five Star Green notebook pad. A menu, a name, different thematic booths and tables, policies…I began to dream.

my first one

Today, Aug. 23, 2007 the original, still standing, one hundred year old brick box located on the corner of Center and Locust St. is no longer the only thing sunbathing in the hot summer sun of Visalia. Yes, sunlight still streams through the torn off rough of the old bar building, but today, nailed together 2 x 4’s separate the bathrooms from the lounge, the concert venue from the café, and an office from a conference room. 210, named after its own address, is beginning to take form. For years, folks at the Presbyterian Church have been twisting and turning the lines and measurements on blueprinted paper to create just the right feel for a community with so much heart. As for me, I’ve dreamed and believed this day would come, but seeing with my own eyes has started Indiana Jones type theme music in my head. “Dun da dun dahh dun da dahhhhh…”! You know what I’m talking about… I guess before I just jump into writing random things and hoping someone somewhere, on or off the clock is reading these, I should give a little background about me, and how I got to 210. This is my first Blog or “Brick” of many to be written by me. Other people are going to be writing too, so I hope you enjoy reading the road map of peoples lives, current thoughts, and past experiences that has led us some how together to helping shape 210.

Intro

Why spend most of your day, week after week, year after year doing something you don’t enjoy, even doing something you told yourself you would never do… At what point in life do we stop dreaming? At what point do we let difficult situations and bad decisions define our life’s ambitions? And why do we put our dreams in a box next to our childhood play toys? There is a reason we dream! There is a reason we give up! There is a reason it’s called a dream and not a job…Does life just get to hard? Do we need money and decide dreams belong only to the rich? I didn’t believe that garbage then and I won’t believe it now!