Recovering my Dreams

I always knew I wanted a large family. A "large family" has different connotations for different people, but to me, it meant having at least 4 kids. Usually in my childhood daydreams, my little ones would be semi-naked splashing in puddles, building forts in the woods, running through fields of wildflowers, or enjoying the process of kneading bread. The bottom line is that they were always living life to the fullest, and I was right there by their side.

You can tell a lot from a person based on their childhood dreams and ambitions. While I toyed with becoming "great," usually in the form of acting or athletics, I was never one to set my hopes on becoming the future president of the United States. I was usually satisfied with visions of quiet craftiness and secret adventures. But my "job" was always centered around the home, and I was never discontent with that.

In my dreams, my role was an enthusiastic, yet tempered sage. You know, the type of mother who is full of creative energy and capable of turning a rainy day into a rain forest adventure. A cross between the wise "Marmi" from Little Women and "Maria" from The Sound of Music. Yet I was also crafty and ingenuitive. That's right, amidst the seeming chaos of inquisitive youngsters, I was able to keep the home both tidy and forever smelling of fresh-baked bread. In my home the laundry was always clean, the gardens were always producing, the kitchen was always ready, and vases of fresh-picked flowers were always decorating the other-wise unassuming interior.

In my dreams my heart was bent towards benevolence and service. Though they were the dreams of a simple life, without the distractions of modern lusts, we always had plenty for ourselves, and plenty for others. Bringing meals to the sick, sending care-packages to oversees missionaries, caring for the orphans and widows, were all interwoven into the very tapestry of our family existence. Loving the Lord our God and our neighbor as ourself was the cry of our inner-most being, and the kids joined gladly in this pursuit.

In my dreams this kind of life was easy and came naturally. I never felt belittled or scorned by those who chose a different path, and I don't remember needing any affirmation that what I was doing was worthwhile or meaningful. I seemed to know it was, and I was content.

Now, in a sense, I have the opportunity to live out my dreams. I have the honor and joy of staying at home with my 8-month-old daughter, and I constantly marvel at God's goodness in placing her with us. Yet somehow I am not the confident, enthusiastic, and content mother I was in my childhood dreams. Instead, I struggle with my role as a mother and a woman. At times I even feel embarrassed to answer that all I do is stay at home with my daughter, as if it were unimportant or insignificant. I find myself feeling lonely, with the dirty laundry piling up, the garden drying out, the kitchen in constant chaos, and empty vases collecting dust on our over-crowded shelves.

Though the dreams may be a little lofty and romantic, I am feeling the gap between the reality of my present state of mind, and the desire to emulate the enthusiastic, yet tempered sage. It's true that the space and location of my home is more like a city loft and less like an aged country house, but physical qualities are not all that's lacking. It's the absence of close, quality relationships that causes me to settle for monotony and drudgery instead of radical joy. When I have little opportunity to practice loving my neighbors as myself, I find my ultimate meaning in life reduced to nothing more than menial tasks. Hence the tension: I know what the Lord desires of me, but I can't seem to come above water long enough to breath it out.

More and more I am realizing the importance of close-knit community and loving relationships. Not only with friends who are scattered about, as I feel blessed to have many relationships with people throughout the country, and world for that matter. But with people in my present, local community. Through these relationships dreams can be remembered and encouraged, because if there's one thing I'm learning, it's that I can't do it alone!

So, will you be my friend and I'll be yours? Maybe we can pick wildflowers together...