Dreams and Sacrifice

Tomorrow I plan to be sitting in a parking lot, surround by a crowd of people, enveloped in a cloud of bug spray and a sea of lawn chairs.  Tomorrow I plan to walk in a parade, listen to music, watch fireworks, and celebrate July Fourth.  This is not a day grounded in some flippant summer celebration, it’s one based in a purpose.  In the midst of these wonderful lawn chaired crowds having fun, it is easy to forget the purpose behind the celebration.  So, I want to pause with my celebratory activities for a moment to remember those founders of what would become the United States of America. 

Volumes of information have been written on those who started with a dream and a hypothetical situation.  We now celebrate the reality of what was the hypothetical, the blessing that came of the sacrifice.  These are the founders that defied the British government by forming a new government.  It is also the time to remember the founders made of farmers, towns-people, craftsman, merchants, and the future citizens of the country.  It is a time to remember that this is the celebration of a war fought, a war won.  It is a celebration to remember the sacrifices of those who crafted our founding documents, searching their minds and hearts of such words as “When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and the Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.”  The words, such as “May it be to the world, what I believe it will be ... the signal of arousing men to burst the chains ... and to assume the blessings and security of self-government. That form, which we have substituted, restores the free right to the unbounded exercise of reason and freedom of opinion. All eyes are opened, or opening, to the rights of man. ... For ourselves, let the annual return of this day forever refresh our recollections of these rights, and an undiminished devotion to them."  Words of power, strength, and purpose reflect an awareness of the importance of events that were at the heart of them. 

The words, the actions that made them more than empty words, still ring with purpose and validity today.  The words and actions were those of dreams, sacrifice, and putting the effort to change the hypothetical into the new reality.  We can still pull national strength from these efforts, as we face new dreams, and make new sacrifices.  I challenge each of us in the USA to realize that effective citizenship in such a place demands an awareness and continual seeking for future growth. 

                                                       Happy Independence Day!

Window Dress

   There is a window of a two story home that sits just off the sidewalk. The two story home that is surrounded by a colorful blue privacy fence, with a beautiful rose bush tucked just inside the gate. I often see someone sitting inside on a plastic lawn chair, just inside the gate. The sidewalk needs swept, the house needs repair. But, up on the second floor, there is a window holding a plaintive and rather poignant view. There is a large piece of pressed fiberglass insulation leaned up against the window, as if it has taken the role of a curtain. But, draped over it is a strapless white dress. With the top tucked gingerly over the top of the fiberglass rectangle, the skirt is draped down below.

   I wonder what the story is of that dress, that house, that window. Is it something that someone is using as a temporary hanger, or something someone thought would be a pretty substitute curtain? Is it a fairytale dress for some little girl? Is it a dream dress for some adult woman? I walk by and I wonder about the dress in the window.

The Cowboy

   He is a man with a dream and a love of the wild mustangs. Having seen these horses living in stock yards, milling about without room to run, he made the decision to chase his desire. Acres and acres of land were purchased for a home for these wild mustangs. He brought them to their new home and set about creating a sanctuary for them.

   I just saw a photo of this man, who will soon be turning 85, in a photo with a horse. He is leaned onto the fence post. His white hat sitting so naturally on his head, strong hands who know a horse and how to work a ranch for a horse rest so naturally on the fence. A large black horse with a thin white stripe down its nose has nestled in to the navy blue sleeve of his windbreaker. They look as if they are the best of friends and are sharing a comfortable and long standing conversation.
   A cowboy with a dream decided to take the chance and pursue it. As a result, scores of beautiful horses have found a home. Now, the descendants of those first horses roam the land. They run, play in the fields, nurture their babies amongst the pines, and splash in the streams. What a beautiful dream of the cowboy. I’m so glad he pursued it. What dream should we pursue?

I Want to Do It All – Just Not All At Once

   Terri Clark came out with a song several years ago, “I Want to do it All”. I can completely relate! While I think that a lot of the things are on her list sound like fun, my own list takes form. However, I cannot just take a few days off, get it all in and be done. I do want to do it all, just not all at once!

   I had to turn down something a week or so ago, which sounded fun. But, I knew that my calendar was full and it just wouldn’t fit. So, I decided that it would have to go on the not all at once part of the list. That makes me feel better, knowing I don’t have to do it all at once.
   But, what to put on my list? Well, Paris in the fall does sound like fun. I’m not so much into the Mardi Gras scene at Mardi Gras – way too many people smushed into those streets for me. But, I wouldn’t mind going back to New Orleans. Let’s see what else…. I want to go to Marrakesh and shop in the bazaar, I want to make something beautiful, I want to take photos and have a display, I want to write a book, I want to plant a herb garden, I want to watch a space shuttle launch, I want to go back to IRAM and watch the horses, I want to serve and to help, I want to be a friendly face for someone who needs it, I want to be a success in my career, I want girls trips with my dear friends, I want to go to Wales and Scotland… My list could go on, that is only the beginning.
   Is there anything I should avoid because it sounds too difficult? No! Because through all of this is a desire to go where God wants me to go, to do what God wants me to do. I am the only me and want to be the best me I can. You are the only you, and I hope you have the same aspiration. So, my list changes over time with guidance from a Heavenly Father. Dream big!

Dream Chasing Entrepreneur

   That word, entrepreneur, evokes thoughts of an explorer and a pioneer in my mind. The spirit that brought some westward to explore, tame, and shape seems to beat in the hearts of these men and women to start their own business.
    I was thinking about this last week as I wandered through a few local stores. The ladies that own them are there, behind the counter. One I had visited the week before and made a purchase. She remembered me, making sure to try and connect with a customer. It can’t be easy to be the owner, worker, errand runner, and chief bottle washer all at the same time.
   I don’t want to romanticize it unduly, because the truth is that there is a lot of hard work that goes into this. But, there is something so appealing to having a dream and following it through. Maybe that is what really catches my attention when I talk to entrepreneurs. They are dream chasers. How many dreams have we dreamed and turned away from them because of fear? Fear of failure, fear of the unknown, fear of what others will think. What dream is it that you have? Go be a dream chaser.

Dreams of Flight

“Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

Of sun-split clouds...and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of...wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,

I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air.

Up, up, the long, delirious burning blue

I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace

Where never lark, nor even eagle flew.

And while with silent, lifting mind I've trod

The high untrespassed sanctity of space...

...put out my hand, and touched the face of God.”

  I fell in love with the ideas of flight and space when I was a little girl. It caught my attention, held my imagination and dreams. The space shuttle program is coming to an end. The orbiters, the beautiful black and white birds, are taking their place in history. However, there is no new craft ready to take its place. Instead, we are entering a new time of unknowns. Where it will go and where it will lead I do not know. But, I do know that I plan on seeing the Discovery lift from earth on this flight. To watch the fuels mix and combust, putting forth thousands of pounds of pressure and create inertia, to boost the bird from her home. What will happen without these dream capturers, these pure science moments? Where will our newer technology come from, our new spin-offs of products that many never will realize nor care that they come from space. Atlantis, Challenger, Columbia, Discovery, and Endeavour – the names caught the hearts and imagination of some. The names still ring of bravery, intelligence, tragedy, and yet victory in the face of utterly devastating circumstances. I want to see the bird fly. I want to see the orbiter move away from the trellis which holds her and be powered into the sky. I want to feel the roar of the engines in my insides, as my heart and the vibration of that might sound mingle for a moment and my heart beat is part of the engine roar. Slip the surly bonds of earth, top the heights, and trod into space.


High Flight – by John Magee

Dream Town

   I live in a small river town, where the cliché downtown has unfortunately become the truly economically depressed downtown. Though a few restaurants and stores have survived, there are many more empty places rather than full now. The buildings have some beauty to them still; the architecture that survives shows the wear and tear of years of rain, snow, ice, and sun.

   When I walk the sidewalks on this street (it’s a one street downtown), and dream about what could be done there. First of all, the buildings are restored. Clean off the plank wood, repair the old architecture, new paint, new plaster, and new bricks. Then, from the repaired buildings, put in beautiful wooden floors and crystal clear windows.
   I imagine this as I walk down the sidewalk, and imagine elegantly decorative signs showcasing artisans who have taken up residence here. Glass blowers, wool felters, sculptors, painters, photographers, writers, architects, craftsman, would slowly fill the buildings and take up residence for studios. Soon, beautiful pieces would be shown in the windows. Music would be heard on cool spring days drifting from open windows. Clinics would be held and people would gather to learn about different types of arts. Children would have a place that is safe for them to explore texture, color, and new things.
   Wouldn’t it be beautiful?

Joy in the Morning

I have been having strange dreams lately, which is not all that strange for me. They are rather unsettling and I wake up feel disconcerted. They seem to center around conflict, which I also find unsettling. I have come a long way in learning to deal with conflict, but it still not my favorite thing to deal with. The thing that strikes me each and every time, is that my feelings of being flustered and a bit tense in the stomach from a dream fades in the morning.

I am reminded that the new day is truly new. It is not promised, it is not mine to claim. It is a gift and unique. I am also reminded that though there are effects which carry through from the day before; this is not necessarily a bad thing. There are good things that carry through to the new day. A gift of grace, friendship, life, and possibility all carry into the new day. I am reminded that though the new day is not promised, that that the things which are are rock solid and carry through each moment. There is joy in the morning, even when there are bad dreams in the night.

Those Crazy Forefathers

The movie about John Adams came out last year and being a lover of history, I had to see it. I’m glad I did, though I did close my eyes for the more squeamish parts. As the Fourth of July comes again, my thoughts turn to the men and women who made such an impact on making this country a survivable independent entity.

What a risk this group was taking. To defy the most powerful country in the world at the time, to go up against what was the best trained army, the best navy. To defy in such a public way the expectations and political structure of the British nation, was to invited disaster upon you. For some of these leaders, there were near escapes from being caught. A fragile structure of a country was forming. It must have been a frightening burden, realizing that the way they arrange governments, groups, and representatives was setting a precedent for generations to come.
They weren’t a perfect bunch, those crazy forefathers – they made mistakes, threw tantrums, and had grand dreams. But, they pulled together a fiber here and there, a tissue thin fabric which was layered over and over and over through years. It is to their credit that we have never experienced some street filled with tanks and young soldiers.
It’s not a perfect country, but they had a dream and the fortitude to carry it out.

Olympic dreams on Washington School hill

Across the street from where I live is an elementary school with a great sledding hill.  Turning left from the driveway, driving down the road on my way to run a quick errand, a young boy was walking towards the hill.  Bundled in a quilted style blue coat, with a black toboggan, his little face stood out and looked fiercely determined.  In his arms, he was holding a snowboard. 

The Olympics are going on right now, and many children will be inspired.  I wondered driving past him if the Olympics had been on at his house.  Now, a new snow board was being tried out, with a dream of Olympic glory in a small boy’s head.  I do enjoy watching the games, but I think that one of the things I like the most is the dreams that are born every four years with each Olympic games. 

To that little boy – dream big!