a lovely picture

Growing up one of my loveliest dreams was to grow up one day, marry some tall, handsome rancher from Montana or Wyoming, have lots of kids, and grow old together on our ranch in the mountains.  I would be a stay at home wife and mama, who would spend my days keeping house, cooking, homeschooling my kiddos, and sitting out on my huge porch drinking iced tea in the spring and summer and warm cups of coffee and cocoa in the fall and winter.  My hubby would come home sweaty and stinking from working hard all day to a nice big dinner, and we would all sit around the dinner table laughing and sharing together.  We would finish our day by reading the Bible together and praying next to a big fireplace in the living room.  We would all be happy, healthy, and very loved.

It paints a pretty picture doesn’t it?

Today I laugh at my innocence…and at that young girl that thought she had life all figured out.

Last Friday I turned 32 years old.  Although not old by any means, I definitely have come a long way from the girl that spent hours reading and dreaming and reading some more.  She was so naïve.  She was so innocent. 

 

I admit, sometimes I miss her.  I miss her wild dreams and hopes for a future that in all reality probably didn’t even exist but she believed it did.  She thought everyone was good and that life for the most part would always be kind.  She hadn’t had to face many challenges or hard times.  She was loved.  She was oh so loved and felt so safe and secure all the time.  She felt free to dream big because as Disney has so successfully convinced millions of little girls all over the world, “dreams do come true.” 

I miss her. 

But I am not sorry that she is gone.

This 32 old woman knows better now.  She knows that even though watching the sun go down in the evening, while a cool breeze rustles her hair, surrounded by the majesty of the mountains, and accompanied by the ones she loves most, would be a most beautiful picture, it isn’t the “happily ever after” that she thought it once was.

She knows that keeping all her best gifts to herself is a waste.  She must pour them out…often and to the point of emptiness at times.  She has to give until she feels like she can’t give anymore.  She has to do and work and move and share.  She has to stop thinking about herself.  She has to get up from that rocking chair on the porch and start kneeling down…washing feet, kissing wounds, holding some hands, wiping some tears.

But most of all she has to love...not just love when it is easy and when it is convenient.  She has to love fiercely and deeply.  She has to dig up strength to keep loving even when she isn’t loved back.  She has to go places that are scary.  She has to face her fears.  She has to leave the safety she has always known.  

She gets hurts sometimes.  She feels lonely sometimes.  She doesn’t see a lot of sunsets.  She doesn’t sit and drink much iced tea.  Her table is usually full but isn’t the quiet and slow evening she once pictured.  Most days she goes to bed bone-tired but having trouble turning her mind off after the day’s events.  Life isn’t too easy most of the time.  It isn’t too slow.

But she wouldn’t trade any of it for even the biggest and most beautiful ranch this world has to offer.

Because that woman knows what real, true love is.  She sees it, hears it, touches it, feels it, and experiences it every single day.  

She has been loved by the “least of these.”  She has been touched by those who were once cast aside.  Her tears have been wiped by the ones who never had someone wiping theirs. 

She has learned to love fiercely and deeply and passionately by the ones who were once unloved. 

Sometimes we have the loveliest dreams.  The kinds of dreams that we don’t even want to open our eyes for fear that we will never actually visit or touch that place in real life. 

But, then we do open our eyes. 

And we find something far lovelier…