the resilience of untold dreams

Some dreams are loud, a bold imprint on our lives like bright splashes of color on a mundane wall. They are the things we work tirelessly for; the things we get degrees for and study until 3am for.

But there are other dreams… The dreams that lay quiet and sleepy inside a soul not yet brave enough to pick it up. It is as if there’s a sacred shelf inside us where we place all those things we feel too silly to go for.

And we think the loud dreams are the ones that will come true and the quiet dreams are the ones we’ll just think of fondly while sitting and sipping on coffee.

But sometimes, life surprises us.

Because while those dreams are quiet, they are resilient.

And while we’re out starting wildfires and chasing kite tails, they’re doing some special work of their own.

It is funny: just when we think we are stuck, all of heaven rushes to a flurry just to see us rise.

A few years ago, driving through downtown Muskogee, Oklahoma, I saw a cute little house that needed some work. And all of a sudden, my mind set to daydreaming about a world where I bought that house. Fixed it up. And lived in it – just me and a good dog. And in my daydreams, my house was filled with books and the smell of coffee. But before then, there would be much time spent hammering nails and splashing on paint.

That dream stayed with me. Sitting on that shelf where all the quiet things go. Hardly vocalized and hardly believed in as an actual thing to happen.

But life swooped around in an unpredictable kind of way and last night I was sitting on an unfinished hardwood floor, stripping paint in a house that needs some work. I was by myself and the windows were open and a breeze was tangling with the voice of Hank Williams as he sang about lovesick blues.

And it hit me. I’m in it. Sitting right where my daydreams left off.

Ha, who knew?

Oh, the joy that filled me. I got up and walked through my house that I own and my heart was filled with so much love I could hardly contain it. Who would have thought that I would buy a house that needed to be fixed up, that I would hammer some nails and splash some paint on the walls and then when it’s all said and done, fill it with books and the smell of coffee?

Oh, those quiet dreams. How sneaky they are. For while we are planning pretty and predictable lives, God is planning exciting ones.

I stood in my upstairs bedroom that is filled with natural light and an aroma that reminds me of my Grandma’s old Baptist Church. I smiled. I couldn’t have planned this. But my soul rests in praise for the One who did.

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