When my husband and I married in college, we both worked jobs for awhile that were build-a-dream jobs. These jobs had nothing in common with our college majors. We took those jobs because we had a dream – of a life together. These jobs allowed us to start living that dream. Love does that – sacrifice self for each other.
About three years ago, I took another build-a-dream job – because we had another dream – to build a business. It was a full-time job that provided health insurance while our business grew. The job didn’t use my skill-set; it was another “build-a-dream job” – a job that helped you build the dream, though it had absolutely nothing in common with the dream.
Dream building is challenging – because a broken world likes tearing dreams and people down, but let me tell you, friends, faith and hope are the Aaron and Hur in life’s battles, holding us up, helping us withstand, to keep building these God-designed dreams.
Dream Building, whether it’s writing a book, building a business – or raising a family – isn’t a utopian task. Let’s face it, the devil doesn’t want God-designed dreams to come true . . . . .
I want you to meet some of my very close friends during the last 3 years, taped to my work-station, constantly lifting me up, like Aaron and Hur lifted Moses’ arms in the battle:
“The Lord is good to those who wait hopefully and expectantly for Him, to those who seek Him” (Lamentations 3:25)
“Against hope, with hope he believed” (Romans 4:18)
“You’re my servant, serving on my side.
I’ve picked you. I haven’t dropped you.
Don’t panic. I’m with you.
There’s no need to fear for I’m your God.
I’ll give you strength. I’ll help you.
I’ll hold you steady, keep a firm grip on you” (Isaiah 41:10)
Since August, my husband and I have been planning a “homecoming.” Last Tuesday was my last day working outside our family, our home and our business. Someone asked my, “Are you excited to be leaving?” I laughed and said, “Twenty years ago, I would have been running and jumping with joy to this new starting point. Right now, I’m walking to the ending point and slowly savoring, slowing entering this new-but-not-new daily living. If I ran and jumped into the unknown at my age, I just might hurt myself.”
Starting last Wednesday, I’ve been restoring outside things like the leaky kitchen sink and running toilet. The shower is still dripping, though. Clean towels are folded in the bathrooms. I can almost see the bottom of the sock basket.
The two boys at home? There’s a peace, a relief in them. They’ve been wonderful the past 3 years, taking care of their homework after school, helping with the laundry, doing the dishes, making sure we’re not up to our noses in golden retriever hair. Sometimes I came home to homemade brownies and cupcakes my boys cooked.
Last Thursday, they sat at the kitchen counter, doing homework, talking about the day. The baby, the 8th grader said, “Where’s the cookies, Mom? You promised homemade cookies after school” and he gave me that cheeky smile. He also gave me a reprieve until this week for some of that after-school, tummy-filling love that only his mom can bake. Something that had been missing about home, raising boys, and Mama was found across the kitchen counter last week. I think I’d been homesick for those moments.
Then there’s the inside restoration of me . . . . He gave me my word for the year – and all I could think is, “Oh, that’s going to make some people really uncomfortable – and it is something that has been discouraged for, oh, about three years (You’ll have to come back next Monday for my word of the year – I’ll tell you then – because if I tell you now, then I’ll have to explain and this will be a much longer post).
Inside and outside restoration isn’t an overnight process. I think that’s why I haven’t had a running, jumping approach. Restoration is a slow, steady process, where some things need time, need to be stripped off, repaired, refitted, revealed to heal, to adjust, to grow.
This morning, a cloud fell on the mountain. I grabbed my camera, which had been sitting idle for a few months, and went on a playdate with God – and I wanted to thank Laura for introducing me to Playdates with God over three years ago – because they have made all the difference these last three years, that and counting 1,000 gifts with Ann at A Holy Experience.
I drove into the white splatter of a fallen cloud (my boys would be rolling their eyes saying, “We’re not little kids anymore” – but there must be the little kid in me somewhere to enjoy saying that kind of stuff – or maybe that’s just being a mom), around windy mountain lanes, spent time with the God who is the architect for not only this soul maintenance and restoration but for the challenging business of building God-designed dreams in a broken world.