Weight of Dreams

My hand landed on a dog’s head and I naturally started petting it. That’s what you do when the dog’s head is right below your fingertips like Olaf, my sister’s mini-horse-sized dog whose head is always at perfect hand height. The head at my fingertips was enough to stir my sleep and evoked the natural response; obviously this must be Olaf since our dogs aren’t tall enough to reach bed level. I continued to stroke his head as a reward for not barking at the other dogs that were gathering to try and get out of the rain. But then I started to wake up a little more gradually trying to piece together how the extra dogs got into our yard, and even how Olaf was at our house. I woke up to find there were no extra dogs from neighbor’s yards, not even Olaf.

I don’t remember dreams that often, but this vivid dream added the sensory element of touch. Logic longs to take its rightful ownership of the brain, and the element of sense brings me back to what’s real. However, it was enough of a struggle that now I was wide awake and it was only 12:30am; a long time before the alarm. I checked e-mail, and wrote back to my niece that I was indeed awake and saw no way that this dream and early hour privacy could even have the consolation of spurring Positively Indecisive. Then I checked in on the blog “Real Life Preacher” whose post read “God Love the Dreamers.” I needed no spurring to read on. I can’t elevate my dream to a stature of importance, but the greater value is considering the weight of dreams.

The book, “God, Dreams and Revelation” questions what has happened to dreams in our modern world that we remember played key roles in the scriptures. Gordon Atkinson (Real Life Preacher) recognizes that our night-time dreams are too difficult to understand and our day-time dreams are too difficult to follow. He was inspired by another post of a young woman dreaming of moving to Uganda and opening homes for children, but not without mingled doubts and fears.

Oh how could He have made me for this? How could something so crazy be accepted by so many hearts? Would people tell me if they really thought my dream was un-attainable? I really can’t do this. It is impossible in every way. I need people to surround me and hold my hands up when they begin to tremble. I need people to speak destiny over my lack. I need people who will begin to pray before my lips form the request. I need hearts that will be strong when mine is breaking. I need people to share this dream with other dreamers. I need Him to break into hearts and catch them alight with His vision. I need Him to replace our eyes with His. I cannot do this as an island. http://handsbuiltformercy.wordpress.com/2009/10/12/703/

My prayer for the congregation?

Holy God, You are wondrously made. In the wonder of our dreams we may delve into a world where we step out of routine into atypical situations. In the wonder of Your dreams, logic is restrained and the uncommon is plausible. Help us to readily dream with You: for others, for growth, for spurring to action. Help us encourage Gabi and others who dream to live in your world where children laugh, the poor are fed, and the unloved find a place out of the rain.

Discovery of Promise

“Following the light of the sun, we left the Old World”
– Christopher Columbus

Even though in the south we don’t have the same regard for Columbus Day as in the northeast with their parades, speeches, and festivities, we still know the story of Christopher Columbus and the poem that made remembering this date for a history test a sure thing.

In fourteen hundred ninety-two
Columbus sailed the ocean blue.
He had three ships and left from Spain;
He sailed through sunshine, wind and rain.
He sailed by night; he sailed by day;
He used the stars to find his way.
A compass also helped him know
How to find the way to go.

In some ways, it is similar to the story of Abram’s spirited venture into an unknown land to greet the adventure of a promised land. Going forth without a promise of what the land would look like, a promise of an easy life, nor a promise of timeliness, but still following a promise with purpose and intention. It’s always been a testament of vision and courage at any age.

If we are called to discover our promised purpose, what could that mean to leave the Old World of comfort and beliefs and be bold enough to risk falling off the edge of that flat world for a multi-dimensional life of promise? The question, “If money was no object, if talent was no qualifier, if time was no inhibitor, what could you envision to help grow the glory of God?” may help decide a direction towards your promise. Maybe it means learning a new skill, trying a new approach, or forfeiting a fear. Maybe it means reconsidering what it means to be born in the image of God, not as a gender or a shape, but as a possibility of greatness.

What could one discover if freed from conventional ideas about planning and living and were bold enough to leave without knowing a final destination? Discover what it means to find your voice, gifts, and purposes. You aren’t alone. You have tools to direct: scripture, prayer, community and God’s promise to you. If you follow the light of the Son, a New World awaits.

My prayer for the congregation?

Dear God, You promise us worlds of potential yet we remain steadfast and inert. We are restless to discover new ideas, new lands, and new people but are contented to remain in our normal routines. Stir us to feelings of impatience and discontent towards our immobility and to seek a remedy by moving closer to You. Let us discover new ways to see, new ways to act and new ways to believe. Our old world offers a launch site; the new world offers new life. Let us sail with the winds of purpose and the stars of hope. You are there to guide and welcome. Amen

Here Comes the Story

Here comes the story of the Hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For something that he never done
Put in a prison cell but one time
He coulda been the Champion of the World...
- Bob Dylan

“The Hurricane” stars Denzel Washington and tells the story of Rubin “Hurricane” Carter. He was a successful boxer who was tried for a triple-murder, some conjecture he was charged by racial instigation, and for awhile he was well represented by movie stars, song writers, and activists hoping to bring his case to public notice. His lawyers found that people come with good intentions, but leave before the slow rhythm of justice gives a response. A parallel story grows while Carter is in prison, using the time to write a book, improve his mind, and review his case. An illiterate teenage boy from Brooklyn chooses Carter’s book as his first book to read by himself. His friends who are teaching him to read share a secret about books: “Sometimes we choose the books we read, and sometimes they choose us.” The two begin a friendship through letters, it develops through face-to-face meetings, and ultimately changes lives as the boy and his mentors move closer to the prison and tell Carter that they won’t leave town until Carter can leave with them. Carter finds it hard to trust and hope in another set of supporters, but their constant reassurance allows Carter to bring down his barrier and open his willingness to believe in freedom. “Hate put me in prison. Love’s gonna bust me out!”

My prayer for the congregation?

Dear God, You supply a constant stream of reassurance, support and hope. You do not leave us alone to fight battles on our own, but use your intervention to provide allies, interpreters, and mentors to help us overcome our imprisonment of insecurity, fear and distrust. As we open our Bibles, let scriptures find their way to chose us, to shore up our weaknesses, and to release us through words of wisdom, strength and love. Let us be aware of unlikely co-journeyers with whom we grow and learn together. Let our connected stories be shared and celebrated to give glory to the Author of life, requiring us to put down our own pen and allow trust in another. Amen

“A story is where the heart surprises the head.” Abraham Heschel

No Secret

I can try and blame it on being a child of the 60s, but so was my husband and he doesn’t have the same enthusiasm for musicals as I do. “West Side Story,” “Fiddler on the Roof,” “Oklahoma,” “Seven Brides for Seven Brothers” are a few favorites, but there’s another one with just as many good songs but which hasn’t made it to as many community productions as the others. “Calamity Jane” was nominated for best music or scoring of a musical picture and Doris Day singing “Secret Love” won the Oscar for Original Song in 1954. It’s not a historical portrayal of Calamity Jane but rather an inventive and comical portrayal of a rough frontierswoman who gets a soft spot for a Lieutenant. This is contrary to the image the town has of her. She wins sharp shooting contests, runs with the posses, “bellies up to the bar” and dresses just like any other man in town. Calamity is pretty proud and protective of her reputation as being equal to resolving any challenge a man could handle, so when that tough skin is peeled away and she admits that she loves Lieutenant Dan, she is exposed and vulnerable, but at the same time relieved and renewed. She puts on a dress, ties a ribbon in her hair, and goes to confess her love before the world, at least the world of the flowers and the trees. But it’s her first step into claiming and saying the words that until that point had been silent. The music swells and she thrusts out her chest in sheer joy that can’t be restricted any longer singing; “Now I shout it from the highest hills!” It’s a song that comes to mind when I’m bursting with excitement or filled with happiness. I can be rather guarded with my thoughts but every once in awhile Doris and I take off our chaps and sing a duet to let the daffodils in on our secret. It was a good weekend for singing!

My prayer for the congregation?

Dear God, You are our confidant and supporter. You know our deepest fears and greatest loves and help us face them and expose them. When we can put a name to our feelings it helps us take steps toward resolution and action. Help us to overcome the fears that impede our growth and encourage us to build the relationships that strengthen our talents and love which help us come closer to the fulfillment of the lives you have dreamed we can achieve. We have witnessed examples of Grace’s unpredictable triumph. This cannot be kept a secret! In renewed confidence, let us claim, name, and un-tame God’s abiding Love that is greater than our dreams. Amen

Once I had a secret love
That lived within the heart of me
All too soon my secret love
Became impatient to be free

So I told a friendly star
The way that dreamers often do
Just how wonderful you are
And why I am so in love with you

Now I shout it from the highest hills
Even told the golden daffodils
At last my heart’s an open door
And my secret love’s no secret anymore

Single Trick

I intentionally kept a low profile today although there is plenty that needed to be done, as always. There were plenty of different movies on cable that made it easier to let hours lapse into the evening: one I probably won’t ever watch again, “Love in the Time of Cholera”; one that is good every few years, “Tortilla Soup”; and one that never grows tiresome, “To Kill a Mockingbird.” I don’t know if the movie made such an impact on me because I could relate to the narrator of the story who was a young girl like me, or simply because it was a well-made film. There are so many memorable scenes, some for their humor, some for their suspense, and some for their message of fairness beside injustice, of respect over contempt, of redemption triumphing prejudice. The movie shows a town that lived with a lot of preconceived ideas about race, indigence and others who lived outside the norm. What started as a summer fascination and desire for adventure evolved into changed lives full of respect and appreciation. It helped having a father like Atticus Finch who was a pillar of moral conviction, who taught his children that sometimes the right thing to do was not the easiest as he took his values into action. He was a model of open-mindedness, generosity and a defender for justice and the over looked. He hoped that his children trusted him enough to come to him with questions instead of listening to the town. Reading summaries of the movies, the main focus is the trial, but one of my favorite moments is at the end when Scout sees Boo Radley for himself.

“If you just learn a single trick, Scout, you'll get along a lot better with all kinds of folks. You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it” - Atticus Finch

My prayer for the congregation?

Dear God, You provide moral certitude. Your law answers our ethical questions and your love simplifies our dilemmas. You long to help us reach the choice of justice and compassion, but we can be pulled by stubbornness, ignorance, greed or fear. Let us be anchored by righteousness and lifted by courage. Let us remember the innocent and ignored who need our bravery and kindness to help them rise to recognition and legitimacy in a world of status and ranking. In your eyes all belong to one family and are your beloved children. Help us to see our neighbors as you see them, accept them, and care for them as our brother. Amen

“Mockingbirds just sing their hearts out for us.” - Atticus Finch

Fact or Fiction

With all of the coverage about swine flu in the media, this is not the best time to get a sore throat. What are the chances it could really be the flu? Should I go to work? Should I cook dinner for the family? (Best to be safe and bring food home because we know everyone working at the restaurant is healthy…) As I first noticed the tenderness in swallowing, I couldn’t help but wonder if the flu strain that I had labeled as another “sky is falling” campaign was staking a foothold in my own house. Sure enough #1 son was not feeling well and started coughing. Reports of the first death linked to the swine flu, albeit hundreds of miles away in southern Texas, was aired on the morning news. Even though a flu diagnosis was suspect, the idea couldn’t help but creep into the realm of possibilities. I remembered I had seen a chart that helped distinguish the differences between a common cold and the flu. My symptoms? I had a sore throat, coughing, but no fever.


From the checklist I feel confident I either have a simple cold or a sinus flare-up. Wouldn’t it be helpful if we had a similar checklist to help weigh other conflicting claims? Could it help distinguish the real prophets from the actors, the revelations from the interpretations, or the wisdom of the reformers from the agenda of the revisionists? In the meantime, wash your hands frequently and be alert.

My prayer for the congregation?

Wise and True God, You have no difficulty in discerning myth from fact, hype from reality or chosen leaders from eager substitutes. Point us towards these truths that you separate so easily as a litmus test. Help us discriminate using the tool of righteousness so that we may hone our decisions and gain confidence in our judgment when placed between conflicting choices. Place in our lives the truthful course of direction and give us wisdom and patience to rely on prayerful judiciousness instead of rash impulsiveness in reaction to claims of accurateness. You name your prophets, reveal your glory and seek reform in an imperfect world. Let us be receptive to your voice. Amen.

Cleaning House

It’s hard to remember all the diversions. I know it had something to do with three major weeks converging at once, several volunteer banquets added for good measure, and hosting a party at our house – something that is only said together sparingly.

Unfortunately in our marriage, I’m the Oscar Madison character and cleanliness is dimming the lights and filling boxes with papers from my desk, that will one day be revealed, why they were important enough to print out. It took strategy to pace the schedule; dusting too soon would result in the need for a second dusting, mopping too late would result in slipping guests. I also realized I could clean the surface, but as soon as someone opened the refrigerator my façade would be broken. So out came the drawers in the refrigerator (who knew they were so easy to clean?). Down came the outdated phone books and wrinkled wrapping paper from the hall closet. Off came the clutter of unattended mail and catalogs. I’m starting to like the place! I actually do like clean, open lines and spaces but seem to have missing synapses on how to keep it that way. Hosting a gathering once or twice a year certainly does help provide the connection for a little while.

My prayer for the congregation?

Dear God, You know us through and through. You know our limits and our faults, but you also know our abilities and our talents. Please nurture our capacity to fulfill our potential and diminish our flawed actions and choices. Help us make more than surface statements of remorse and transformation, and allow the deep confession of our souls come before you and others. You keep the relationship open and available; we are the ones who complicate the bond. Let our lives be free of the clutter that detracts our focus on righteousness. Amen.