God hard-wired me for dreaming. I walk around with my head in the clouds. The view from up here is exhilarating. Of course, living in a fallen world, crashes from my dreamy perch are inevitable…and frequent. Broken heart, crushed spirit and all, it’s a fine way to walk through life, one which I highly recommend…but only for the brave.
Sometimes though, my dreams are far too small.
Spring was once a glorious season for me-the promise of new life. Then, twenty years ago, in the fullness of the month of May, my mother died unexpectedly. Since that time, spring has become a bitter-sweet season…all around me newness of life mocks my pain. Twenty years ago, a dream was born. “Lord, please bring me joy in May. Please mark that month with something beautiful. Please make the pain of that month count for something amazing.”
For twenty years, my dreamer’s heart has waited for “something” to happen in May. However, God had bigger plans than just “the month of May.” Rather than redeeming a mere 31 days for me, God has redeemed a season of life. I am on the cusp of the end of my mother’s life. Her time of mothering ended at the age of 42. My time of mothering is beginning at the age of 41.
Not too shabby, God.