I Have a Dream

Before my husband and I had been married five years, I had a dream that we would celebrate our 5th anniversary by going to Hawaii. I had the same dream for the 10th, the 15th, the 20th, the 25th and maybe for a couple of others.

Then my dream changed. I decided I would rather go on an Alaskan cruise for one of our main anniversaries. I hoped to do that for a number of years. Then my dream changed.

Next summer we will have been married 40 years. What I'm hoping for now is to spend several days and nights in Estes Park in the beautiful Colorado mountains. That's a dream that matches my energies and motivations. I've seen Hawaii and Alaska and the whales on TV. I know it's not the same as going for real, but it's certainly much easier and definitely less expensive.

When I was younger I wanted to learn to play the violin and to go back to school to get an MA. Later I changed my wants to learning to play the guitar instead of the violin, and I'm finished with schooling, although I do think about taking a class online.

I still have the desire to write a book. But I do wonder if I wait a few years to actually write one, how all the new technology will affect that enterprise. Besides wanting to say something, I also want to make money. In the future will this dream be worth anything?

It's good to have dreams. It's good to be realistic. I do dream about living to be 95 like my grandma did, although that may take too much work and it may take too long!

Skirting the Issue

A true story

I was attending Bible college in Denver at least a few years ago now. Cinderella City, a mall in Englewood, was very new--probably a couple years old. I had gone to the mall by myself, and in the middle of the open floor space a petting zoo had been brought in.

What I remember the most were the baby goats. The were very cute and pretty active. I was bending over to pat some little guy, and suddenly I felt a tug on the back of my skirt. I turned quickly around. There was another little "precious" goat with the whole back of my skirt in its mouth. I yanked on it. It all came out very easily, but I was left with a very large (bigger than a frisbee) circle with a lovely green tint to it.

Of course I was embarrassed. If only someone else had been there with me--we could have smirked and laughed together. By myself I could only look around to see who was watching. There was no one as far as I could tell. I think I went and sat down to let the wet spot dry for a little while, and then I left the mall quickly like a prairie dog running for cover.

Good times and good memories.

The Lesson

She wasn't sure why she had done it. She really hadn't done it since that time she had been in the tree in the backyard. A bird had landed on the branch above where she was sitting high above the ground. It had said a few chirpy words to her and then had made a deposit on her black sweater and flown away. When she wiped it it off, it had smeared on her fingers in a white streak. She had then wiped it on the front of her shirt.

After she quickly climbed down the tree and run in the house to tell Mama, her mama hollered at her and told her she should not have wiped the poo with her hand but should have come inside and let her clean it off with soap and water. Now she had smeared it and had to change her clothes.

Ever since then when she got anything on her shirt, she just let it stay there until she could wash it off and scrub it with soap or cleaner. The time however, when she dropped spaghetti sauce on her white blouse, she had immediately reached up and wiped it with her hand. There now was a streak all down the front and it was nearly time for her to meet her boyfriend's parents. Now they would know who she really was.

There was always the second impression.

The New Year

So far, the new year feels pretty much like the old year. Same job. Same house. Save co-workers. Same family. Same me. I guess that's the main thing...the same me. I would like to make resolutions that, if kept, would change me for the better. Here's a possible list:

I will exercise everyday.

I will eat only healthy food in moderate amounts.

I will watch only television and movies that have good moral content with no violence, language or anything that would cause carnal thoughts.

I will vacuum something every day.

I will always do the dishes and wipe the counters after supper.

I will quit being a procrastinator.

I will witness to my co-workers weekly.

I will read my Bible every day and read it through every year.

I will paint my fingernails.

I will start writing my book.

And for good measure, I will strive to be perfect and not be satisfied with my imperfections.

But alas, that last one is the sticking point. For the most part, I'm okay with my imperfections. I don't expect perfection, and I don't even plan to strive for it. This is my life, and I'm okay with that.

Why spoil imperfection?