The days have been warm and clear for late January and yesterday when I went running I noticed the bulbs waking from their sleepy beds—pointy green fingers reaching up. The sun left a memory of its summer strength on my face and as I took flight I wondered about sleeping dreams and the way the earth turns silently through time.
My boys have been on a short winter break from school and we have had many adventures. I’ve been scarce here but fully present with them. They both mark their birthdays this week and there have been friends and sweets and presents. Yesterday we went to see Lincolnand I studied their faces in a dim theater for traces of understanding. On the way home we talked about the movie—about how things might have been different if the 13th amendment hadn’t passed. And we wondered together at what human beings are capable of. And how time—this thick thing, as Abe said in the movie—has erased the urgency of freedom.
We forget so many things.
Today there is a march from one of the churches downtown to our state capitol building. There the freedom bell will be rung and speeches will be made. And the boys and I will watch the inauguration on television and I will tell them how the President will be sworn in on two Bibles—one that used to be owned by Martin Luther King, Jr. and one that was Abraham Lincoln’s. We will make our own march and recite pieces of Martin Luther King’s I Have a Dream speech—shout it from the top of the little bridge in our neighborhood.
Last week my agent sent my book proposal out to several publishers and it was a good feeling—a surreal feeling after all this time. I was so grateful. And last night when the boys and I walked I told them how I can’t stop thinking about the thirst for justice that Abe Lincoln had and isn’t it funny how a dream changes with this thick thing called time? How something that used to seem as necessary as air can become a means to an end—a way to open oneself up to the bigger dream that God dreams?
When I watched Les Miserable a couple weeks ago, my first tears fell when Ann Hathaway sang I Dreamed a Dream. Because an unrealized dream can be a heartbreaking thing. Especially when it comes to justice. And something a mentor said about 1 Corinthians 12:1-11keeps sticking in my mind.
It occurred to me for the first time, he said, that all the things discussed in the scripture are carried out by human beings. For these things to happen, a person is required to fill them.
And when I think about Abe Lincoln and Martin Luther King, Jr. and anyone else who has stood up in the face of injustice…it makes my dream bigger too.
Let’s keep dreaming for each other, for this world, for shalom. And hold these dreams for one another with love through the thick turning of time.
They tell me a cold snap is coming on.
How do you embrace the God-joy? Every Monday I’ll be sharing one of my Playdates with God. I would love to hear about yours. It can be anything: outside, quiet time. Maybe it’s solitary. Maybe it’s loud and crowded. Just find Him. Be with Him.
I’m a morning person and happiest in a place with no walls. Give me a bed of grass and a blanket-sky and I will dream deep in wonder. But a good story takes me to this place too. And a poem? Even better. You can always find me here. Or connect with me on on facebook, twitter, or pinterest.