Sometimes, completely out of the blue, something will hit my heart dead center and send me down an emotional path that I may or may not be ready to travel. A scent, a taste, a texture, the way the breeze blows, a sound, a particular sight, maybe even an expression that flashes across one of my daughter's faces...or a song.
Honestly, I've spent most of my life avoiding these rabbit trails until the last several years. I wasn't running from anything, but allowing myself to process everything my life has entailed was overwhelming. I am not one to wallow in anything ~ good or bad; I've always focused on the task at hand and lived in the present.
My days have always been FULL and busy, and as our family has grown, I'd even say "organized chaos" would be an accurate description of most of my days;) Going in 18 different directions at the same time left little time for reflection, and I was more than fine with that. All that said, at my core I'm wired to be a dreamer. It's not uncommon for dinner to get a bit burnt because I was lost in thought and forgot about it. My thoughts often are pondering dreams, big and small, as I go about all the busyness of my days. Quilts and other projects are planned in detail as I'm washing dishes and laundry. Rooms get new looks in my mind as we go through our lessons. Spring/Summer projects (that may or may not ever get done) are constantly running through my head.... a garden so the girls can learn to grown things (hopefully better than their mom...I'm horrible at growing anything that doesn't voice it's opinion in some way, such as sassiness or barking; I've been dubbed as a plant hospice, making them comfortable until they finally give up and turn to mulch), painting and repurposing the barn shed in the back yard as the ultimate playhouse, building a fire pit and building an outdoor "movie screen" to enjoy on summer and autumn nights... if you can search it on Pinterest, it's likely floating through my mind at any given moment, while I'm busy with everything our days hold.
Dreaming.... I've always gotten lost in my thoughts since I was a child. I've come to realize that God gifted me this tendency, in part, as self-preservation. A way to escape things going on that weren't in my control, and to not drown in the aftermath that was left scattered across the floor at times. He gifted me the ability to always see what can be, to see the possibilities rather than the glaring problems. Yup, I'm the one that looks at old farmhouses and barns, barely standing, as something still savable..."It only has a few holes in the roof..." or "It's still standing.... It's perfect" What others see as nothing more than a pile of barn board, I see as just needing some TLC and it will be brimming with life again. There's nothing I love more than giving something old and thrown away a new life and purpose with a little elbow grease and paint. Others would rather have something new, but I'd rather have something with a history and it's own story to tell. WHY? Why is my heart drawn to broken and worn out things from generations past? Quirky. Hippie. Stubborn. Marches to her own beat. Has her own way of doing things. Born in the wrong time. These are a few of the things I've heard people say about me since I was little...it's all completely true, and doesn't bother me at all.... But, for some reason, God has sent me on a journey over the past several years to try to figure out why He created me as He did, come to terms with who I am and why I am the way I am, and to finally be willing to use my story to maybe help others see His AMAZING love, grace, redemption, provision, and to maybe find their salvation through faith in Him. How have I managed to keep a spirit of JOY throughout my life, even during times of crisis and hopelessness.... I firmly believe it's because God gifted me the ability to never stop dreaming.
My childhood wasn't easy, by any measure. That said, I never doubted a single moment that I was loved. My parents loved me and made sure I knew that without a doubt. God blessed me with a grandmother that invested her entire heart and soul into me and was my life's compass. Aunts and uncles, cousins, and other grandparents that showed me love in their own ways. While they were all facing their own giants, God used it all to shape me into the person He created me to be. God gave me the gift of being a dreamer as a way to protect my heart and mind from all that went on around me when I was young; to build a foundation of JOY even in an atmosphere of abuse and insecurity, and to keep my heart and mind secure in Him, knowing He kept his hand of protection over me. Dreaming was God's gift of escape, protection, acceptance...
ACCEPTANCE. It's easy to accept things if you don't overthink. But is that what God wants of us? He created us. He gave us our very life. He created us with a purpose to minister to others and reach them for His Kingdom. Eventually we need to stop escaping ourselves and all that our lives have entailed, and start seeking God's true purpose for all we've been through over our life. That means that we likely need to wrestle with some hard things, making ourselves and those we love uncomfortable as we come to truly understand who we are and how God used everything in our life for His Glory. It means that we need to give up hiding behind our carefully placed walls, allowing God to come in fully and deal with the really hard stuff, knowing it's going to hurt as He molds us further and puts us through a refiner's fire.
Honestly, I didn't want to go on this journey. I was content to just live each day as they came along. Praying, enjoying Bible study, caring for my family, trying to serve God through serving others in any way I could find. It never crossed my mind that in order to truly draw near to God I would have to understand how He hardwired me. He wants me to understand why I am like I am, wrestle with the hard stuff that formed some of my "quirks", and accept the things that caused me to build up my protective walls, in order for me to be willing to allow Him to tear them down and heal the broken pieces. I needed to finally seek to be who I was created to be instead of continuing to be whatever others wanted or expected me to be. I needed to find my strength in God rather than the fortified walls I've spent a lifetime building.
Sunday morning we sang that song up above and it was one of those heart piercing moments. As I read the words on the screen, my mind ran clips of many of the hard times over my life. The little girl with her hiding place plan and her little suitcase of her most important treasures always tucked under her bed. The smell of cigarettes and beer which would inevitably lead to the sounds of anger and rage on the other side of the door as her dad wrestled with his own demons. Her mom's voice trying to appease and calm him, willing to accept his wrath to keep him from ever potentially hurting me. The sound of broken glass and pounding walls. The feelings of immense guilt because I secretly wished I could have a dad like my uncle, who was gentle and soft spoken, with a soft crooked smile that made me feel safe and cherished. The child who felt worthless and that she was to blame for all the bad stuff, and if she could just be what she thought everyone expected then things would be calm and her dad wouldn't get so angry. The strength of all the women in her family and their fierce love for her...Love that showed in their constant protection and their diligence in turning her toward God. On and on and on these little clips of memories flashed.
As the words of this song echoed in my heart, I could see God picking away at my walls, brick by brick. You see, just because I've spent my entire life fortifying my wall, God comes in through the cracks. I may not know how to tear my wall down, and frankly it's terrifying to even contemplate being so completely vulnerable, but that doesn't stop God. With each brick that he hammers through, he gives me more memories that show He will reach me and protect me without the help of my self made wall. Memories of my mom and I having daily devotions in secret, hiding my little devotional and bible under the sofa so Dad wouldn't find them. My aunt helping me memorize scripture, LOTS of Scripture, so that God's word and His promises were engraved on my heart and I could draw on those scriptures while hiding in the dark, drowning out the sounds of rage outside my door. My grandma loving on me in every possible way... singing to me, humming her little made up tune, teaching me to sew and bake, and all the while pointing me to Jesus each and every day.
Why am I rambling on? Who knows! All I know is that this song completely pierced my spirit and helped me remember that God always shows up. ALWAYS. And, through it, He showed me yet again, that by taking ownership of all that my life has entailed, being willing to share my story with others rather than keeping all the hard stuff hidden away, He will be glorified. Yes, He will be glorified in all the messiness of life. He uses the bad as well as the good. I'm still learning...still a work in progress...still a hot mess. But God loves me. He has never abandoned me. He has always given me a way to keep a spirit of joy no matter what my circumstances. I believe there's a reason he made yellow my favorite color....because he can feed my joy, even in the midst of tremendous grief or crisis, with something as simple as the sight of a field of dandelions. Drops of sunshine that are turned into tiny bouquets from the tiny fingers of toddlers, to bless their mamas. There's a reason God gifted me to be a dreamer...bringing joy even in the midst of life's storms. There's a reason God has chosen the past 10 years or so to start chipping away at my wall and making me come to terms with who and why I am what I am....to help guide my own precious daughters through their struggles by being authentic and vulnerable for them to see that GOD IS GOOD ALL THE TIME AND IN ALL THINGS.
Footnote: Contrary to what some might think after reading this post...while my life has had some tough circumstances, I had a wonderful childhood which I look back on and smile. The things in this post were only a small part. I feel beyond blessed to have been able to see God working and feel His presence in very real and tangible ways throughout my entire life. I was a very loved child and I knew that without a doubt. I was given a strong foundation of Faith, I saw what true sacrifice looked like, and I am blessed to have witnessed my grandma, mom, and aunt grow strong in their relationships with God, encouraging each other in their faith, and leave a legacy of faith in their children and grandchildren. They were the first in our family to come to salvation, and it is their faith that changed the course of our family for the generations since.
