Friday, March 27, 2015

dreams are mostly impossible

I have dreams on the brain.
I was talking to my friend the other day, we were talking about following our dreams.
We started talking about what we want vs. what God wants for us.
And about our Christian brothers and sisters who are walking out persecution
and even though it is incredibly difficult and heart wrenching,
could that actually be the path that God has them on?
Could it possibly be the path that He has for us?
Do his dreams for us include some hardship?
Because any kind of dreams that I have for myself do not involve any pain and suffering.
Or toil.
Or discomfort.
Or difficulty.
My dreams for myself are feel good kind of dreams.
Think rainbows, unicorns, giant bars of chocolate and large book advances.
But when I read God's word I am struck by the fact
that all of the dreams that God has for those that He loves takes them to impossible places.
To do impossible things.
And some times more than once.
As if one hernia per person isn't enough.
And there is nary a unicorn or book advance in site.
They dreamed the impossible dreams that God placed in their hearts.
They went impossible places.
They did impossible things.
They didn't always get it right.
But in the course of their lives, they became more than they could ever hope or imagine.
If you are dreaming dreams that you can by chance, fulfill in your own steam,
complete with your own talents and sustain with your own provisions,
you probably are dreaming some great dreams.
But they are most likely your dreams for you...not his.
(Welcome to the land of rainbows and chocolate...I look forward to your company.)
If you are embracing the dreams that God has for you,
you will absolutely not be able to complete them in your own strength.
They may bypass your talents and skill set completely.
(Think parting seas and leading armies.)
You will probably on occasion be completely freaked out and may be exhausted.
(Think hiding in caves and saving nations)
And you will be scared.
(Take are in great company...almost everyone who dreams God sized dreams is)
But you will also be invigorated...
lifted up...
hemmed in on every side...
led by the Spirit...
given thoughts and talents and abilities that you have never had before....
and you will become more than you could ever hope or imagine.
His dreams for you...
the ones that He has birthed with great hope in your spirit,
are and always will be....impossible.
Aren't you glad that it is up to Him to make them come true?

Friday, March 20, 2015

sometimes dreams don't look like I think they will

My dream has always been to be a writer.
Even when I didn't know it.
From the time I was a little kid learning to read, loving the images and the
feel of words in my mouth.
To moments in junior high,
when I wrote an entire story shaped around the beauty of teal mascara,
To my afternoons working with kids as a college student, when I entertained them with
stories of tiny fairies who lived in strawberry patches and rode bumblebees.
Writing has been a constant theme.
But my writing had always been for me. For my pleasure.
It fulfilled something in me.
Sometimes I would show it to my parents.
Because by law they had to say nice things and tell me how brilliant I was.
I shared it with my sisters and my close friends.
Anyone who felt safe and who I knew loved me already.
But mostly, I was too scared of rejection to share it with anyone else.
It was too connected to who I was for me to let anyone critique it.
Because it felt like my soul was being critiqued.
And then came slow realization of knowing that I wanted what I wrote to be read...
even if it crushed me...because keeping my words to myself felt like hoarding.
And if I didn't begin to let people writing would never grow or change or be
more than a thought that I hid away in one of my many journals.
So began the painful and long process of my words being rejected and turned down by
It was turned down a lot....
by all sorts of people....
in lots of different calls...emails...face to face...for about 10 years.
10 years is a really long time. You can get wrinkles and gray hair in ten years.
Sometimes I tucked the dream away for a year or two and nursed my wounds.
I would say things to myself like,
"They are dumb...they don't know what good writing is."
Mostly, I felt dumb and really thought I probably didn't know what good writing was.
But eventually, the notebooks would come back out.
The new word document would be pulled up.
And the words would come pouring out one more time.
Because when you have a dream...a real can't stay tucked away forever.
But what I thought my dream would look like began to change.
And one thing I never realized as a kid was that dreams are really hard work.
A dream coming true is less like a Disney movie and more like a live birth.
It is still beautiful.
But most likely it will not be sprinkled with fairy dust. There may be some screaming involved.
But here is the thing,
God has some dreams with your name on them.
They will turn your life upside down
and flip your heart inside out.
They will probably look absolutely almost never like you think they will.
But beautiful things happen when God births a dream in us.
Heart wrenching, mind blowing, achingly beautiful things.
They may not look like we think they should look or feel like we think they should feel.
But they are the things that make life good and exciting and real and full of hope.
Follow them anyway.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

what aunt jenny smells like

Within the space of a week both of our cars have decided to give out on us.
They are good cars.
Nice cars.
But they are getting on in years and every now and then they need a rest.
Normally, we would be able to get by but having to drive to both Napa and San Francisco
the past two days, we decided to rent a car.
When I picked up the boys from school in the new black Toyota Corolla,
they actually ran to the car.
With joy. And vigor. Like they had won a prize.

They yelled back to their friends, "It's a rental!"
When they got in the car, they turned up the radio and kept saying things like,
"This is so awesome!" and
"I love this car!" and
"Can we keep it?" as if it were a puppy we could bring home to stay.
We drove out of the school blasting Tay-Tay Swift and breathing in new car smell.
The boys in the back seat were running their hands over the interior like it was velvet.
Jack was sitting up front with me,
syncing his Kindle with the music system by using the car's blue tooth.
It was the closest I have ever seen him to being in love.
He said, "Mom, this car smells like Aunt Jenny."
I started laughing...I know what our van smells like...5 year old milk and sweaty socks.
"What does Aunt Jenny smell like?"
That is a high accolade for an almost 14 year old boy.
Apparently, Jenny's car does not smell like death and onions and Jack appreciates this.
When I called Jenny and told her what her nephew thought she smelled like,
she laughed and said, "Why not? I'll take it!"
Tonight we turn the car back in and go back to real life and a stinky van.
(A stinky van that we are very thankful for actually...don't take me wrong!)
But for today, we are driving to Napa in style, living  it up,
listening to loud music, using the back up camera to parallel park
and reveling in smelling like Aunt Jenny.
It is going to be a good day.

Thursday, March 12, 2015

ode to coffee...a poem of love

Sometimes the simplest things are the most profound.
Yesterday, I was given this coffee mug as a gift
after speaking at a mom's group.
It speaks the truth, people.
Here is my love poem to coffee.

Coffee, coffee
You are so sweet
Filling me up 
Each sip is a treat.

Coffee, coffee
You're so toasty
My favorite is Peet's
So strong and roasty.

Coffee, coffee
I won't spit you
The real truth is
I just can't quit you.

Coffee, coffee
Big cup or small
My heart is yours
I love you.
That's all.

Friday, March 6, 2015

just in case you have some troubles

Yesterday our 2002 Honda Odyssey decided to take a break.
From us.
100 miles from home.
Luckily, there was a repair shop close by and we were with family.
I texted Scott who was back in the bay area, "Call me now! Car emergency!"
When he called he requested that I define "car emergency" in my texts.
Like "Car Repair Emergency." That way he knows we are all alive.
So we are back home.
And our van is still in Davis.
Hopefully, the repair shop will call and say,
"False alarm. It is totally normal for a car to buck like a bronco on the freeway.
You just need more air freshener...because your car stinks...did something die in there?"
I had a mini break down on the way home.
Mostly because I am scared of what the repair guy is going to say when he calls.
I threw up some prayers looking out the passenger window like,
"Okay, Jesus, how are you at healing engines?"
"Do you know of a car fairy who could drop off a new smell free car at our house
before we get back home?"
I get so worried about how we are going to work everything out.
The daily struggles of life can weigh me down.
BUT...I don't want to get pulled down in the muck of anxiety that
keeps me stressed and fearful.
So I am trying to look up.
To the One who is not worried at all.
I told my Mom and Dad this morning,
"I couldn't have broken down in a better place! With better people!
Thank goodness I wasn't traveling by myself. I was safe. The kids were safe."
The One who is not worried at all was already taking care of us.
And this morning I read this verse,
"The righteous cry out and the Lord hears them;
he delivers them from all their troubles."
All their troubles.
Not some of their troubles. Or half of their troubles.
All their troubles. That would include van troubles.
He must be pretty amazing to be able to shoulder ALL of our troubles, don't you think?
So I am keeping my focus on him today and the promise of his deliverance.
If you have some troubles, feel free to join me.

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

being with my people sounds good

I think I have figured out that I am a ONE PERSON AT A TIME kind of gal.
I love my people in small doses.
I love a cup of coffee with 2 or 3 friends or a walk in the park with a girlfriend,
one on one with my boys or a date night with Scott.
But the big party scene is not my thing.
If I walk into a room with 20 of my most favorite people,
I feel like, "Sweet Mercy! Take me now! There is no way I can talk to everyone!"
Scott thrives in this environment, being energized by all the conversations.
Mostly, I just want to lay down.
And I am realizing that for me, social media is the big party scene of the virtual world.
Every time I open my facebook page, I am inviting 1000 people to come sit
around my breakfast table.
And they all have varying opinions,
videos of their dogs eating eating biscuits off the ends of their noses
and for some reason they have way better lives than I do.
(How can people afford to go to Hawaii for the weekend? What is their job? Can I have it?)
Now there is the slight chance that they don't have better lives than I do but
that is what I feel like when I read their posts.
I have always felt like being online was a way I could stay connected when I am
hunkered down in my bedroom over my computer on deadline.
But what I have realized is that it is "fake" connected.
Changing and checking my status doesn't really give me what I need relationship-wise.
I end up feeling anxious and slightly overweight if people don't answer back,
like I am the one at the jr. high dance leaning up against the wall
that no one will make eye contact with.
Don't ask me is just what happens.
(I believe this called being "insecure". Just a guess.)
It is clear that I need to get my human interaction in a different way.
A cup of tea with a thousand virtual friends does not equal a cup of tea with a girlfriend.
Flipping through pictures of my friends' kids does not equal holding one of my own.
Liking one of my husband's statuses really doesn't have a whole lot to do with liking my husband.
It would really just be better to go slip my hand in his and feel his palm against mine
and be together...wouldn't it?
Well, that is what I have been thinking any way.
I love that I have reconnected with old friends and far away family on social media.
It has been a powerful tool of prayer for me and my family in times of crises
so I am unbelievably thankful for that.
But I think I need a bigger dose of old fashioned real people time in my life.
I need time with my people.
The ones who know me inside and out, who have seen me at my most neurotic and
still hang around and love me anyway.
And I need some face to face time instead of just face time.
The kind where I can see their smiles lines and hear their laughter and squeeze them and
ask them if there is something in my teeth.
Tomorrow my Mom and Dad are passing through California
on the way to a speaking engagement up in Oregon.
We are all driving up to Sacramento to see them.

I can't wait to see them and hug them repeatedly
and stare at them and touch their faces and soak them up.
I'm sure this won't make them feel awkward at all.
At least I won't be clinging to Dad's thigh like I used to as a small child.
Brett and Jenny are coming, too....I am so excited I can't breathe right.
I get to be with my people.
And it just doesn't get any better than that.