maybe dreams do come true.



i've spent years dreaming dreams that deep down i never believed would come true. believing that a plus a equals b because the pulpit said so, and because i was convinced that happiness is the product of hard work and hope mustered up from an unknown place, and with nowhere to land. so much energy convincing myself to place the few eggs i had in baskets of promises. splenda coated wishes, where disneyland and church feel too similar and am i the only one waiting for a real jesus?

rudy asked if god is good all the time, and i think not. or not, at least, if that means a happy face when things are too hard for words of placation. not if it means i cannot claim the sorrow of god's absence in my story and the heartbreak of people i love. not if goodness is plain and flat, not if all the time stretches into my past and my future, a blanket hiding layers of secret.


i don't have a clear vision of god anymore. i can't see him. i don't have visions or hear his voice telling me which way to move. i don't go to church regularly, or memorize scripture. i don't have quiet times or pray before meals. but each time i look outside at the dream building itself in the earth i own, i know this god a little more.

he is the hundreds of shades of green in the thick leaves of agave. he is the texture of so much variety in my new pots. he is the smell of sage on my hands and the wet soil on my jeans.


it's 2006 now, and i have no real resolution list to speak of. i know i will travel and smile and drink wine with new and old friends in my house. i know i will dance and laugh. i know i will find more answers. i know i will birth more questions and cry more tears. i know i will fall in love and be loved in return. i know i will have my 30 and 1/2 birthday in my new backyard. i know i will teach with great passion and grow and be nourished in my profession. i know i will see my family more clearly, and be free to know them as they are.


so mostly i want to worship with my hands in the dirt. with my fingers on the piano. with my heart wrapped around this life i've been given, in all its' brokenness and fragility, in all its' strength and triumphance.


he is the one who moves me into my future. he is the one who hears me. he is the planter of my new dreams.