BLEND: 'So are you guys like Starbucks?'

A flat white by
James 'Santiago' Maclennan

Plant something today that will feed someone many months or many years from now. Plant something today, because you’ve feasted on someone else’s carefully planted seeds, seeds that bloomed into nourishment and kept you alive and wide-eyed. ~ Shauna Niequist

I’ll probably regret saying this the next time the work schedule is emailed out, but I love opening Blend. Some staff say the 10-4 shift is the best, but the very best bits of a day happen in the morning.

A quiet, frosty walk from the bus stop past the Town Hall and stony Queen Victoria. Frightened Rabbit blasting. Flaky croissants baking. Taking chairs off of tables. Prayers for staff and customers. An offering of gratitude and peace. A prelude before the mess of today.

Always, always, always. Turn on the coffee machines first. They take time to get ready. Stock the cake fridge. Put on the soup. Get things in place. Pull shots. How’s the grinder dosing? Look, smell, taste. How’s the crema? Can you taste the notes? Do the shots taste like cigarette ashes? Secretly resent whoever messed with the grinder yesterday.

Eight ‘o’ clock begins it all. Commuters in for a standard latte before the train. Upstairs employees in for cappuccinos and quick chats. Regulars like Brian in to read the paper and stay long enough to finish 3 or 4 large Americanos. For each customer, we are creating today.

Existing somewhere between social service, faith community and business, Blend’s definitions of currency and profit are a bit more fluid. A smile. A good conversation. A consistently smooth flat white. A special latte art. (Every shift is an unspoken latte art competition.) A good first impression. Love is in the details, and every detail is an invitation, an investment. Today, we’ll earn a smile back. Next week, more of their story. Next month, the right to share our own. A month or two after that, an invitation to join our Sunday night get togethers.

We’ve been open in Paisley for six fantastic, hectic months now, and already, we’re deeply loved. We proudly hold the title of Renfrewshire’s Favourite Business. Yet people are still discovering us here at 25b Causeyside Street in what’s known as “the old Co-Op building”. While we’re shaping Paisley’s present, this building built in 1910 ties us to the town’s past, the roots of our customers. For the past 5 years, it’s been a bit abused and neglected, that is until we began refurbishment and reclamation last June. Paisley’s ‘rivers in the wasteland’ style awakening – true biblical revival – isn’t just spiritual. It’s also physical, economic, social, culinary, artistic, agricultural, etc. We’re praying for this sort of holistic regeneration.

Right now though, it’s lunchtime. The staff collectively double down into our systems as things intensify, hurling out coffees, soup, paninis (Or is it panino?) and holding our breath until it slows. This is usually when things hit the fan. There are no clean teaspoons. Someone, most likely Naomi or me, smashes a glass cake stand or stack of porcelain plates. The soup sells out, but no one tells the cashier who sells three more. Lunchtime requires extraordinary grace.

Making this shop a sanctuary requires an abundance of grace as well. Life flies past our windows, yet all the while, we welcome Paisley into this home. Weary, hardworking folks like Saheed, one-shot, jaffa mocha frappe guy from Mumbai who spends all day in university classes and all night at work. Folks in transition like debonair Londoner Alistair who has temporarily lived in Paisley for the past year looking after his elderly mum. The world is manic and spinning, yet Blend stays constant, pulling more and more chairs around the table.

A knitting club is beginning!
PHOTO: Abbie McPherson

Sometimes, we’re counsellors or social workers. People need a safe place to work through their demons. Like the woman from a few weeks ago who came to the shop to sober up and stayed until we phoned her a taxi, chatting hazy, gin-soaked circles around Gone With the Wind with me because Oklahoma equalled Georgia in her mind. Blend slows you down and makes you focus too. Last month, Gillian came in, journal in hand, determined not to leave until she’d decided whether she and her husband would take the job offer in Portugal and start their family there. This is a place for big life stuff.

It’s a lot of mundane stuff as well, but that matters too. Crafting something wonderful takes practice and patience, like the cinnamon rolls I still need to bake for Derrick. Relationships and community take repeated investment, some more than others. Like Prischetta, the Italian stay-at-home mum who gives nothing away, alpha female, indifferent, almost haughty. I feel more like a frumpy American around her than anyone else. Her approval requires major hustle. Or platinum blonde Jean who has been a regular since we opened but always looks at me like I’m a creep for greeting her by name. They’re tough cases to crack.

David got creative at our
Christmas party.
Photo: David Storer

We’re slowly becoming a pick ‘n’ mix family though. We caffeinate study sessions for students and celebrate with them too when university exams are over, pass or fail. We visit Lindsey recovering from sepsis in the hospital. We make sure Marnie gets a birthday card. We cheer on jazz guitarist and regular Matt at Friday open mics. We wait for Tom and Maureen to come in for their usual and to give us the latest update after each of her chemo treatments. We can always count on Neil and Ianco for restaurant recommendations. We decorate gingerbread men and watch Home Alone after hours. We gush over the latest pictures of Francisco’s grandchildren even though we can’t understand his Spanish, and he can’t understand our English. We’re writing a grander, more significant story together.

Three ‘o’ clock signals a changing of the guard as the opening staff leave and the closing staff come in. The day’s loose ends begin to come back together. First-timers usually think our customer service is incredible. The truly incredible thing, though, is that how we treat customers is only a shadow of how we treat each other. Our team is the most authentic expression of what Blend is. We slag James off. Baby Pollock that’s kicking around inside Cindy is going to have far too many aunties and uncles. We tell silly jokes over dinner at Nate and Becky’s. If we can’t make this lifestyle, culture, whatever, work among staff, anything beyond doesn’t matter. But we do make it work. We bless, listen to, eat with, nurture, and dare each other first and discover more than just a cool way to pay the rent. We find a slightly dysfunctional yet absolutely wonderful second family.

So I guess, the bottom line is this – We really love coffee. We really love Paisley and Scotland. And we truly believe in resurrection. Paisley’s story is God’s story. We want to be a part of “making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.”

As always, thanks for sharing in this journey with me.

“So, friends, every day do something that won’t compute … Give your approval to all you cannot understand … Ask the questions that have no answers. Put your faith in two inches of humus that will build under trees every thousand years … Laugh. Be joyful though you have considered all the facts … Practice resurrection.” ~ Wendell Berry

to listen | للاستماع | slušati

Friends.

There’s nothing like that first cup of Scottish tea after a time away. Believe me, I know because I’m finally back in Scotland. And I’ve got stories to share!

Autumn has spun out of control. But like, in a good way. Landing in DFW the 2^nd of October was like landing on a foreign planet. Too hot; too dry. The next three and a half weeks were packed with family and friends, lots of burgers and Tex-Mex, turning 25, visiting nine Oklahoma church communities to share of missional work in Scotland and just lots of resting. It was perfect timing to step away, tell stories, listen and take stock. Also, to realise how completely weird I now sound.

Thank you for being a refuge, Oklahoma, for listening to, supporting, praying for and encouraging me, for buying me meals and letting me crash. I’m grateful for you all this month and all the other months.

By the way, if you’d meant to or want to support me, here is the link to my Nazarene Missions support page. I understand there’s tonnes of things you can give to these days. However, Nancy, my personnel coordinator, said I shouldn’t be living off a few hundred USD per month in the UK. She’s probably right.

But anyway!

Jet lagged me sharing about coffee shop ministry
at Alva Church of the Nazarene. They fed me
 fried chicken after this.

Do you know what your calling is? Not your life plan – house, family, travel, two cars, retirement plan. Not moral living or good manners. Like, your God-given purpose right now? This question sat with me the entire time I was home, possibly because I’ve been freaking out over whatever is to come at the end of this visa. I tried asking some people I look up to that question and read some really dumb articles. Ultimately, though, my trip home forced me to slow down and listen for the answer.

One of the best moments from home was having the all-day breakfast at Ozzie’s Diner with my favourite Marine friend and watching the OU/Texas game. As the game (painfully) went on and the diner emptied, the waitresses joined us. We won’t talk about the final score, mainly because why would you want to hurt me like that?

BOOMER SOONER

I loved that day, anyway, because Dawn, the pink eye shadowed waitress, shared about life, her Green Bay Packers obsession, celebrities she’s met, her grandsons, her turbulent ex and her current boyfriend Danny. She wanted to know what I did and why I would move across the world. It wasn’t a Touched by an Angel moment. No golden light shown upon us. But it was one of those fantastic moments where God spoke, I think.

There were other similar moments too. Like Maria at the gas station on the way home from Dallas who’d just lost her job and felt adrift. And Mr. Khan the businessman on the flight to London going through an ugly divorce and trapped by addiction.

As I listened, God reminded me of the woman at the well from John 4. I used to completely identify with her and still do some – her desperate need to be heard and understood despite her ball-and-chain mess, her ravenous searching for something greater and more powerful than herself. I was reminded of Esther who was made queen of Persia "for such a time as this". God also reminded me of the lessons in last autumn’s blog, “to be a part of creating just the right space and environment for connections to happen.” These thoughts have been the undercurrent of all my journal entries lately.

I was invited to attend the Eurasia Regional Conference in Turkey at the start of November. It was an incredible week. I don’t really know how to do it justice. Hearing stories of life and ministry in Lebanon and India, talking about how reconciliation looks in our own contexts, watching the sun rise over the Mediterranean with my British Isles and Irish friends. A big, fat week of abundance.

The final night, we were meant to share communion with a person from another culture. Looking around, I spotted my Iraqi friend just walking into the room. With tears in his eyes, he told me of his sister who’d left Iraq for Turkey when he was ten. Attending the conference was sort of a once-in-a-lifetime chance for him, and she came down just for that day to see him. They’d said goodbye that night not knowing if they’d ever see each other again. All I could do was listen. I’ll never know what that’s like. We decided to share communion and just pray together. On our way to the table, we found our Croatian friend whose leg injury hadn’t been healing properly. He needed a communion partner as well.

It was an extraordinary moment praying for each other, English, Arabic and Croatian words interweaving and going to God. We exchanged nametags and currencies remembering to pray and lift each other up, remembering that we’re linked in this love for God and His kingdom.

I always feel a deep, immovable certainty when God speaks. I knew that night with that deep certainty that I am a bridge. Wherever I am, whatever I’m doing now and in the future, I’m a gap-closer. I listen to the stories and offer the hope I’ve found. I pray, create places of refuge, be peace, joy and love. I’m a reconciler because my identity is deeply rooted in God, the ultimate reconciler.

Again, I ask you. What is your calling? Your God-given purpose?

Returning from Turkey, I was immediately back into the swing of things here with Blend and Jubilee House, yet I’ve not stopped listening. The other day, a friend who recently started her own clothing company to financially support charitable causes said something like, “I’m just so tired of people complaining about the bad in the world but remaining so passive. I just want to be around people who see all the bad yet go out to discover the solution.”

Yes! That’s our purpose. Discovering ‘the solution’; being ‘the solution’. There are too many deep, open wounds needing care, attention, financial support, creativity, passion. There are too many searching for the divine, beautiful God who makes it all hang right. We have to walk into God’s calling for us though it may lead us into darkness. Running, refusing to open our eyes, or barricading ourselves will not exempt us from that darkness, from the bleeding. Honestly, walking into God’s calling will be our salvation, I think.

So, what is your calling?

Jubilee House is an expression of my calling. It’s gained speed in the past few months. Midway through October, Jubilee was awarded Scottish charitable status! This has taken literally months, but we can now apply for grants, fundraise, etc. God continues to connect our team with experts and volunteers who help us move forward. And this next Friday, we’re hosting our official launch party. One of the major MP’s who champions domestic abuse here in Scotland will be speaking. Others who are passionate about providing solutions will be there as well.

As our volunteers network grows, more and more women join our community of second chances, not because they have experience or practical skills to offer but because they were or are now trapped in an abusive partnership. It’s sad yet not surprising considering the stats. The house is completely gutted, and we’re just now beginning the long, up-hill trek of fundraising. Yet Jubilee began a long, long time ago. It continues on as we hear the stories and offer prayers for restoration. It’s the kingdom of God seeping into the cracks before we’ve actually cleared the red tape.

If I am truly meant to be a bridge, I hope this update connects you not just to God’s work here in Scotland but maybe to His voice calling you to see your life in a fresh way and to take that next step, whatever it might be for you.

Thanks for sharing in the journey with me.

Catie

PS Obviously, I wasn't in Scotland to get photos of it being beautiful this autumn. Turkey certainly made up for it though. Thanks to my pal, Amy, who is brilliant and took most of these.

Deluge: BLEND IS OPEN!!!!

People!

I have so much to tell you. Crazy good stuff has happened here over the last three months.

BLEND COFFEE LOUNGE, PAISLEY HAS FINALLY OPENED!!!!

Seriously! Let’s all take a moment to celebrate this!

The second Blend shop is no longer just a nice wee dream that I write to you all about every few months. It’s happening right now as I write this. When one of the major reasons you’ve moved across the world suddenly becomes a reality, it’s actually the craziest feeling. God’s like, “See! It was all worth it, right??”

Everything’s been so beautifully brought together. Lemme show you around!

'We created this place for you. Our place is your place. Enjoy!'

 

'Smile: it's the second best thing you can do with your lips...'
The first best thing is probably either drinking coffee or eating Tex-Mex.

How can we make your day?

'We are a diverse band of friends united in our passion for people
to experience some of the best coffee and tea the world over.'

Blend is about details and discovery.
Five of our stools are a puzzle that forms a quote.
'I had the blues because I had no shoes, until upon the street I met a man
who had no feet.'

A customer hand made this fabulous pillow for us.
Together, we're creating Blend every day.

The Evolution of Coffee: Wake up, look like a monster, start drinking...

And if you drink enough coffee, you'll eventually look like this.

Reminders are everywhere.

We even have a children's corner! Colouring, books, board games!

And we have a scratch off map of the world.
Customers can scratch off their home country.
I've scratched off Oklahoma for us all!

Isn’t it cool?! Before we’d even opened, we had over 500 likes on Facebook. Customers have said the following about the shop:

Staff Training

“This place is so peaceful. It’s become my sanctuary from out there.”

“This is a happy zone! You’re all so smiley!”

“The people are really what make this place.”

I don’t think I’ve told y’all much about Paisley yet, but it’s important that you understand our context. Paisley was a happening place once upon a time. It was a major industrial town (paisley pattern textiles, etc.). It has a university, gorgeous cathedrals and an abbey, tons and tons of history. People still remember back to how they always used to choose to shop or go for a night out in Paisley instead of Glasgow decades ago.

For many reasons though, it’s become a rough, forgotten city. Businesses have left, and few have moved in. Some of Scotland’s most deprived areas are in Paisley now. In the evenings after businesses shut, it’s not uncommon to see street fights or drunks and addicts roaming about. I don’t want to be too dramatic in describing it. There are good parts and nice folks as well. But as a friend said, “On the whole, it’s like a city but without any of the good stuff.” Maybe you can see how Blend would stick out in a place li

ke that.

Really, both Blend and Jubilee House as well as the networks of people behind them have become a part of a larger deluge of God into Paisley. There’s lots of folks working to bring light and hope to the place. Years ago, God put a passion in people’s hearts from Erskine Church of the Nazarene (ECN) to create a fresh, unique expression of Jesus in a dark place. Though those people have skilfully led these exciting new projects, both are quickly expanding beyond any one person.  

They’re like the river of healing described in Ezekiel 47 & Revelation 22, flowing from God’s temple, unstoppable, beginning as a trickle but growing deeper and wider the farther it flows. New life flourishes wherever the river flows. Salty water is made pure and fresh, and the surrounding landscape itself is healed.

Jubilee and Blend are both like that. Blend is sometimes more obvious though. One of my favourite moments so far has been watching a customer discover one of the many hidden details in the shop’s design and then sharing it with the two customers next to him. Over the next 30 minutes, the three got to know each other and left as friends. It was a real life expression of our Blend Story – to “look for the rewards of curiosity” and to “learn the unforced rhythms of grace.”

At our pre-opening night, we packed the shop with our
closest family and friends and showed off our skills.
Those who stuck around after cleaning got to enjoy
the after party. Such a fun night!

God’s movement into Paisley is bigger than any of us. It’s working in ways that we don’t see, didn’t plan, couldn’t have imagined. We’re clinging to the Spirit and opening ourselves up to the unknown. Obviously, it’s not always this beautiful, perfect picture. Things don’t always work. Shifts can be stressful. Jubilee House can get caught in the red tape. The balance of our lives is totally uprooted as we pour our passion and energy into making this thing move. God is sovereign though. When we find the end of the rope, He refuels us, renews us, re-impassions us, and lifts us up.

The other day on the bus to my first shift in Blend, Paisley, I was thinking over how Jubilee House seems to sometimes just drag on, and was this really needed? Am I putting energy into something that I think is a part of God’s plans when in reality it’s something we’ve just forced into being? At that point, almost as if it were staged, a woman and her husband got on the bus. Most everyone looked up at the couple but then quickly averted their eyes. Her entire right eye was bashed in, black and blue, to the point where she could barely see. She had five stitches along her cheekbone. There was only one seat left, and as she went to sit, her husband started calling her names and said that that was his seat. So she stood for the remainder of the bus journey.

This river of life, this river of healing is so absolutely necessary. The daily mundane threatens to blind me from that. But then suddenly, God brings an experience like that one on the bus to lift up my eyes and remind me that the world is desperate for hope, and He is responding with overwhelming, generally absurd love.

I love love love telling the story of Jubilee House to non-Christians. It makes absolutely NO sense for a woman from the Isle of Mull who has never attended ECN to just give a house away to be used for good. That just sounds dumb, right? It isn’t dumb, though, when you’ve discovered God’s river of life and have been so radically healed, changed, satisfied, and have become a part of that river yourself. 

Friends, can you join me in drowning Blend, Jubilee House, Paisley and Scotland in some serious prayer?? Over the past several weeks, God has been breaking my heart and opening my eyes even wider to the brokenness around me. There’s just so much. But like a wave, He’s steadily washing over life here, pouring His spirit into all. I’m praying for even more of that salty to fresh water kind of restoration. 

I hope you’ve witnessed or rediscovered God’s river of life for yourself this summer. I’m still planning to come home this autumn to support raise for another year in Scotland. So I will be contacting pastors and missions leaders over the next several weeks about the possibility of sharing with your church community. As an added bonus, I might be bringing one of my favourite Scottish lasses and Blend baristas with me!

Thanks for sharing in this journey with me!

Love,

Catie

PS Thank you so so much to my church family in Tishomingo for all the cards, snacks and Oklahoma gear you sent with my mum. Half her suitcase was just gifts for me. I really don’t know what words to use to say thank you enough. Love and miss you all! 

PSS I can't break tradition. I just can't. Unless it's a tradition that I don't like, but this isn't one of those. Here are pictures of Scotland being beautiful.

Some friends took me to Portpatrick which is
exactly what you'd imagine a quaint Scottish fishing village to be like.
We explored Dunsky Castle, built sometime in the 1100's
and ate fish and chips on the beach. You can see Northern Ireland just across the sea.
The sun shone all day. It was glorious.

Portpatrick Cliffs

Mum came to visit! This is our bus selfie to prove it.
People always talk about how they have the best mum in the world.
Gurl please! It's a very solid fact that my mum is actually the best.
I'm blessed beyond what I deserve.

We saw a lot of amazing places around Scotland.
My favourite, though, was Dunkeld. 

Though Scotland is amazing, sometimes you just need to go somewhere that's so overwhelming in every way. So my friend Dayna and I went to Rome! Now, all I want is to learn Italian and just be a Roman woman.

Something ancient

Trastavere

Top of the Spanish Steps
That sun!!!

A ceiling & my head

1 of .....6 gelatos.
All pizza, pasta or ice cream I've had since
my Roman holiday has just been a place holder until
I can get back to Rome for the real stuff.