Dreams

We are watching A LOT of Frozen at our house.

A LOT. 

Four times the first week I mistakenly purchased the Frozen DVD at Target in order to prevent my daughter from ceasing to love me.

So I’m walking around my office singing, “Do you want to build a snowman?”

Yes, that is annoying.  Even though I’m only doing it in my head.

One of the songs that I picked up during this torturous experience (you’d think the other two BOY triplets would demand a more measured movie watching experience, oh but no, they agree to this) was during a troll singfest.  No, you can’t make this up.  Little rocks turn into trolls and start singing.  Aren’t you sad you don’t live with us?

We aren’t saying you can change him

‘Cause people don’t really change

We’re only saying that love’s a force that’s powerful and strange

People make bad choices if they’re mad or scared or stressed

But throw a little love their way, and you’ll bring out their best

True love brings out the best

 

To continue reading, join me over at God-sized Dreams where you can find out what I learned from Frozen….

 

{Postscript: On the eve of this post running, two weeks after I wrote it, this was the scene in my house:

The kids are in the hall between their bedrooms, despite us having put them to bed an hour ago, reenacting Frozen:
Boy #1 aka Anna says, “I just can’t live like this anymore….” (Hubby from the hallway – you can’t live like this anymore?)
Boy #2 aka Elsa says, “Then leave!” (Hubby from the hallway – don’t leave!)
Little bit is directing, “no, you need to finish it” (and then supplies the next line).
Then they launch into Let it Go.
It was too funny to make them go to bed.}

So much of what I struggle with now–materialism, pride, a craving for stability–stems from that year and the years that followed in high school.

They were lean times.  Thanksgiving dinners left at the door.  Mom’s friends’ hand-me-downs to wear for my freshman year at a new school.  Rushing to pay the electric bill the day it was due to be cut off.

All too often, I let all that was spinning outside define me inside.

Where I was became who I was.  What we had became what I was worth.  How we lived was a reflection of all I lacked.

It took years of God working with me.  Years for me to see God’s truth that Where we are is not Who we are.

It took me two decades to understand that my circumstances do not define me.  

They test me; they do not reflect me.  They surround me; they do not pervade me.

 

To keep reading a little more of my story, keep reading over at God-sized Dreams.

The calls came in quick succession.

I’d not expected either one.

I don’t normally write this down, but a part of my God-sized dream involves speaking.  In some nontraditional ways to some nontraditional audiences.

Several weeks ago, I received two requests to speak to some new groups, to which I had no connection, in cities that are not my own, on topics I love to speak.

But still I couldn’t say yes.  I couldn’t understand why I had such hesitation…

 

Join me today over at God-sized Dreams as I write about what God is teaching me about my saying no and His saying yes.

Over the next few weeks, the dreaming crew over at God-sized Dreams have the opportunity to introduce themselves a little to the visiting dreamers.  I’m honored to be writing a little of my story over at the site today, please come by to join me:

I grew up shy. Dutiful. Obedient. Friendly enough for a preacher’s daughter, as friendly as required, but shy without question. My father left us for another family before my eighth grade year; that didn’t do anything but deepen my insecurities and doubt.

Shyly I entered college, with a course long charted for medicine. My first B threw me into upheaval and, via a story far too long to share here, redirected me to instead study Pre-law. I majored in Political Science and minored in Speech. I hated speaking in public! I threw up before every speech. This continued on in to law school, but I continued to speak, with toothpaste always nearby.

Fifteen years after graduation, I find myself celebrating my 40th birthday on a ship I regularly feel is beyond my class, charted for a course I feel incapable of completing. Apparently, in this whole faith thing, being humanly incapable of achieving your dream is actually a good thing. Or so I’m learning.

To continue reading, click here. 

There’s this David Gray song called Sail Away,

Sail away with me honey, now now now

Sail away with me

What will be will be

Can’t you see the boat setting off from the shore?  Can you hear the urgency?  Come on, get on the boat.  Now!!

This romantic notion of setting off.

Action.  Adventure.  The Unknown.

Unfortunately, we let that energy and interest reside in our heart without setting out.  We stand at the dock.  Thinking it’s too risky to go.  Or we’re unqualified to sail.  Or the weather may not hold.

Well, God made us to sail.

With that vision in mind, my dear friend and kindred spirit, Christine, imagined a place each of us could go to be inspired to launch.  Or keep sailing.  Or weather the storms.  Or sail beyond sight of the shore.

And then she asked me, and ten other beautiful dreaming sailors, to join her crew.

Monday, we launched God-sized Dreams, A Place Where Dreams Set Sail.  I’m honored to serve on the crew as Consulting Editor and Contributing Author.  There’s a post up today from a dreamer who wrote the book on God-sized Dreams.  Just the day to learn more.

I’d love for you to join us.  To share what God may be calling you to, or through.

It’s New Year’s Day, friends.

A perfect time to listen to that stirring in your heart and take a step out on the boat.

See you there sweet dreamer.