It's with a disappointed heart that I share the following: this blog is going on hiatus until further notice.
I've been writing. I have. It's not that I have neglected my art. Most of what I have been writing has wound up in the mouths of my teenage actors. I've been writing new plays for them every 6 to 8 weeks or so, and I also feel that the time has come for me to resurrect some of my older skits and plays and give them new life.
In addition, I feel that God is calling me to do a new thing in my life, something that will require me to stretch my faith, embrace my gifts, and trust him in an area of my life that I've always considered a hobby, rather than a professions. I am not ready to share this new goal just yet, but it will - God willing - involve me reaching out to others like myself to cultivate the link between the dramatic arts and the church.
I want to thank those of you who have read, commented, encouraged and supported me from my first social media posts (yep - myspace) until now. You have helped carry me through times when I doubted my talent, doubted that I had anything worthwhile to say. After many years, I believe I am finding my voice, and I know what I want to share.
I still have novels and skits and poems in my head that may never come out, but it's time I sat down at the computer and let them have a real fighting chance to do just that.
I'm not ready to seal up this chapter of my life just yet, so I'm keeping my "good-bye" open-ended. It's entirely possible that my path will bring me back here with a lot more to say. But, for now, I need to step back and give my increasingly limited free time to the words that have been locked in my head for too long.
May God's love sustain you, may you never run out of coffee, and may every cat you encounter remind you of me.
Signing off for now,
Rebecca L. Godlove
Showing posts with label career. Show all posts
Showing posts with label career. Show all posts
Sunday, April 17, 2016
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
A Decade Without Decaf
I realized it earlier today, as I was driving my son home from his dermatologist's appointment. It was ten years ago this summer that I was hired at Starbucks.
Ten years ago that I became part of the opening crew at the Collier Town Square Store.
Ten years ago that I began my journey towards understanding adulthood, maturity, and responsibility.
Ten years ago that I sipped my first cup of freshly brewed, sunny Ethiopia Yirgacheffe, and compared it to the lemony brightness of Kenya.
Ten years ago that I made friends I still think about almost daily, with whom I faltered along as we grew into real-life "grown-ups".
Ten years ago that I realized I actually liked coffee. Like, really, really liked it.
Ten years ago, when I was twenty-two and still expected to make a living in the arts. (Don't laugh.)
Ten years ago, when I was still starry-eyed about the opposite sex, and continually hoped that HE would walk through the door and somehow be impressed with my knowledge of Arabica coffee beans.
Ten years ago, when my whole life seemed to lie ahead of me and I couldn't wait to run out and grab it.
A few months of working in a coffee shop turned into a "real" job, one where I was working my way up the corporate ladder. My closest friends were managers who poured into me, who taught me to take responsibility for my choices. Two of them taught me things I would never forget. The first thing was that perception was everything. To most people, truth doesn't matter, but what they think is true does. The second thing was that you have the right to make your own decisions if you can defend them. The worst choice you can make is the arbitrary one.
Four and a half years later and a rather ugly falling out led to me working at the bank and, again, working my way into management. After my first miscarriage, I left the bank (though those two events were unrelated). I took a job at a small billing office with regular hours, which I had never enjoyed, and virtually no responsibility. That was a nice change after nearly seven years in management. But it wouldn't last. Downsizing forced me "on the streets", so to speak, and after just over a year, I was unemployed. Six months later, as my unemployment checks were ending, I landed a job at a pediatricians' office, which combined skills from all three of my previous jobs. I enjoyed it. A lot. In fact, I think I was happier there than I was anywhere else, except in the earliest days and at the very end of my stint at Starbucks.
Why is this all important?
I don't really know. It's just that I owe a lot to my experiences at The Buck, as we liked to call it. On the practical side, I learned about time management, critical thinking, customer service, accepting and offering constructive criticism, leadership, and accountability. These skills served me later as a small group leader, then a youth leader at my church. I also learned mad coffee-tasting skills and my sense of smell is as sharp as ever. I can still identify a coffee's country of origin from a single sniff. Not as thrilling or valuable a skill, I admit, but it's a neat party trick. I mean, it could be. If I went to parties. Or had friends who threw them.
But, in ten years, I have yet to amass those kinds of friends.
Mine are more homebodies. Not much for clubbing, never were. More likely to invite me over for fondue than for a night on the town. Which suits me just fine.
I'll bring dessert.
And decaf.
Ten years ago that I became part of the opening crew at the Collier Town Square Store.
Ten years ago that I began my journey towards understanding adulthood, maturity, and responsibility.
Ten years ago that I sipped my first cup of freshly brewed, sunny Ethiopia Yirgacheffe, and compared it to the lemony brightness of Kenya.
Ten years ago that I made friends I still think about almost daily, with whom I faltered along as we grew into real-life "grown-ups".
![]() |
| Ten years ago: day one on the job. |
Ten years ago that I realized I actually liked coffee. Like, really, really liked it.
Ten years ago, when I was twenty-two and still expected to make a living in the arts. (Don't laugh.)
Ten years ago, when I was still starry-eyed about the opposite sex, and continually hoped that HE would walk through the door and somehow be impressed with my knowledge of Arabica coffee beans.
Ten years ago, when my whole life seemed to lie ahead of me and I couldn't wait to run out and grab it.
A few months of working in a coffee shop turned into a "real" job, one where I was working my way up the corporate ladder. My closest friends were managers who poured into me, who taught me to take responsibility for my choices. Two of them taught me things I would never forget. The first thing was that perception was everything. To most people, truth doesn't matter, but what they think is true does. The second thing was that you have the right to make your own decisions if you can defend them. The worst choice you can make is the arbitrary one.
| No apron here, though I WAS barefoot and pregnant, ten years later... |
Why is this all important?
| Today, THIS little peanut is my boss. |
But, in ten years, I have yet to amass those kinds of friends.
Mine are more homebodies. Not much for clubbing, never were. More likely to invite me over for fondue than for a night on the town. Which suits me just fine.
I'll bring dessert.
And decaf.
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