Dreaming

Sometimes you just have to shrug your shoulders, dust off your shelf of dreams, pick one, and lace up your work boots. There will always be reasons for NOT doing something. There will always be people to tell you that you shouldn’t. But when the Lord gives His nod of approval . . . and your heart begins to bloom with hope that you might actually be able to do this thing . . . then do it.

I have always been a dreamer. And I am married to a dreamer. It is just the way we are wired. It isn’t that we are afraid of the real world and prefer to live in an imaginary one. We are not those kinds of dreamers. It’s just that we love to see things as they are . . .find the beauty in them . . . and then wonder what they might become.

For me, dreaming is a type of prayer. It is a conversation between the Lord and I that plumbs the depths of my feelings and challenges the truth of what I think. It helps me to find complete contentment in the goodness God has poured into my life while still nudging me to step boldly into what He is doing next. For example, I can enjoy, with gratitude, the deliciously tart blackberries that grow wildly in my Kirkhaven woods . . . and still wonder, as I meander down familiar paths, if I might also grow juicy blueberries up on the hill.

Dreaming is a lot of work. I study when I dream. I read lots of books. I ponder the Word of God for guidance. I seek the counsel of knowledgeable, wise people. I ask a lot of questions and search out a lot of answers. It is important to have an honest grasp of what you DO know and what you DON’T know and what you NEED to learn when you are dreaming. Not-willing-to-work-at-it-laziness will kill a dream. Know-it-all-arrogance will kill the dreamer.

So today, at the threshold of another gorgeous Kirkhaven spring, we have begun earnest work on a brand-new dream. Kirkhaven is becoming a working farm. We will grow heirloom fruits, vegetables, and herbs for cooking, canning, and drying. We will raise Black Australorp chickens for beautiful, brown eggs and healthy, organic meat . And we will build a bass pond on the west side of our 54 ridge-top acres for fishing, thinking, and . . . . probably . . . more dreaming.

I am a teacher.
My husband is an architect.

If you are tempted to ask, “Why would THEY try to tackle such a project?” . . .
I have a simple answer.

No reason at all . . .
except that we dreamed it . . .
and we could hear God smiling.

Here is the site of our future garden overlooking McNallie ridge . . . with the Smoky Mountains in the distance.
 

 
Looking across the garden, you can see our red barn.  That's where we will build the chicken coop.
 

 
And this is the sun setting over the site for our future pond.

Jeremiah 29:11-14


"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back from captivity . . .”

God’s plans are truly lovely.
Join me in dreaming?