Attic corners

We sat next to each other in the dark.  Sneakers squeaking as the giggles echoed. The anticipation rose as the projector began to roll.  Images of children. Teeth so white and skin so dark it was next to impossible to forget their beautiful faces.  I didn’t know it then, but God planted a seed that day. That day, in our school gymnasium, on my eight year old heart that’s stuck around and germinated.  Blooming and blossoming in the back drop of this simple girls’ life.  Africa. Quite simply, Africa.  Whispers and tugs and pulls on my heart strings like puppets manoeuvring as if by magic.  God sized dreams are like that, aren’t they? Coming out of what seems like nowhere, and never ever letting go. 

It was years later still and you’d find me dancing. An amethyst green dress, its hem gracefully skimming the toe of my high heels. He held me confidently.  Like familiar faces that knew each other from years gone past.  He spoke first in Spanish. Not as boldly as his hand had graced my waste, but with effort.  And we laughed and swayed. Memories shared about travels.  Photographs viewed into the night of backpacks, bright colors, and dusty roads.  And I felt a seed germinating. Busting through soil, calling forth light.

The thing about God sized dreams is they enter in at seemingly odd junctures in life and seem to take root and cannot be shaken.  Often times, they’re inexplicable.  Ambiguous.  Many times, illogical.  But always.  Always, they get our hearts beating and passions stirring and hang on tightly, welcoming us to step out of our comfort zones and into the great unknown.  Beckoning.  Inviting.  As if calling our name.

Peru was not on my 2012 list of things to do and see.  South America is on my God sized dream list, the one tucked away in the back of my heart, dusty and covered, like an unvisited attic loft.  It sits in a weathered old trunk beneath boxes of desires and ponderings. But, Someone recalled it was there, dug it out gently, cared for it, and laid it in my once closed hands. And with prayer, careful consideration, and time, has flourished into a trip that will enable my daughter and I to spend three weeks learning Spanish, visiting a new culture, and meeting new friends on the other side of this hemisphere. Most importantly though, it reminds me there is One who has not forgotten the old trunk I've sealed and tucked away in my attic corners.

Sometimes, in the trials and struggles in life, it is easy to forget that we belong to one that longs to bless us, and knows our God sized dreams. Even the ones, and maybe even more so the ones, we've given up on.  Especially the one tucked away in the back of our hearts and in our attic corners.  Time drags on, boot straps are pulled up, and game faces ready.  But, in the tender places, in the freeing places, and always in the places where we find our heart, we’ll find Him there waiting. Lavishing.  Renewing.  Strengthening.  Dusting off forgotten dreams.  Blessing.  Because, He’s like that. Because He's faithful.  Because he's not only the creator of, but the tender gardener of ours hearts.

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.

James 1:17