Whispered Dreams and Butterfly Wings

"God is not sending you there to clip your wings."

photo taken by Michael and Lindy

The Israelites were God's chosen people. Chosen to receive every good thing you could think of God giving to a person. God. Creator. Able to do anything. Chose them.

They went through a season where nothing looked good. There was no green in sight. The thing they thought they were delivered out of now surrounded them. it was all they could see. 

I wonder how many dreams were dreamt in that season. How hard must it have been to know that you were promised an abundant life. You were taken out of a horrible situation. You saw miracles. So you KNEW this was the right direction. But somewhere along the way this direction stopped looking like the right one. You think, surely it must be, I saw the very clear hand of God. But here I walk.

 I don't know why this happens but I'm sure at some point we've all been in the desert. 

The dreams we dreamt when we took the first steps out now seem like foolishness. Or if not foolish then just long lost.

hold on to them. God is not putting you through this situation to beat you up. In fact He is not "putting" you through anything. He is going through it with you. 

Who guided the Israelites through the desert? Who made sure their clothes never wore out or their sandals never broke?

He will constantly clothe you, He will never cease providing you with exactly what you need to keep walking.

I can't say I'm going through a desert season right now. I'm surrounded by family. I'm blessed with friends and a job. The desert is not where I'm at. But I have been there.

Right now, I'm in a place where all of my dreams are planted deep inside the soil and I'm left to wonder if they are still there. 

In this way, I relate to the Israelites and anyone who feels like the desert place is their home.

It would be easy to think that in this season, where things aren't making sense, that the wings of all my whispered dreams are being slowly covered by the dirt. torn off by the elements. But as surely as this season will not last forever, my dreams will be given wings.

The dreams I pushed myself to dream and the ones that came as easily as walking (developing and making more sense as I got older.)  All of them seem to be on the back burner.

What is a whispered dream? it's a dream from deep inside. One you want so badly it almost feels wrong saying it out loud. A whispered dream is not a secret. A whispered dream is one that rumbles in your soul when you think about it. 

So I walk in faith. Such a cliche line. Let's try it a different way. 

I don't know what's happening to my little wings that feel non-existent. I don't know what will become of them. But I rest in the fact that the Israelites reached their promised land. That broken wings can be mended. That even mighty oaks are invisible for a season. I rest in this. 

A dream is a wish your heart makes… whether you're fast asleep or wide awake. (little secret, the best ones are when you're wide awake!)

So dream. And if you've already dreamt, well, hold on. Because nothing is so far burried, so badly broken, so deeply wounded that God cannot fix it or bring it out of the ground.

So if it feels like you've been sent to the desert to have your wings clipped, it's not true. And if you've been wounded in the process of pursuing your dreams. Don't lose hope.

Lindy and Micheal found the wounded butterfly and made a new wing for it out of an expired black swallowtail and put it on with adhesive. The white powder is so it didn't stick to anything before it dried.

Vacuum Cleaners and Me

I have an issue. vacuum cleaners.

I don't actually own one, but the ones I encounter are giving me issues. 

The one at my house is busted.Enough said. But I'm not really complaining about that, I can solve this by purchasing one for myself. Here are my other issues.

Today I went to the gas station to…hold your breath… get gas. Unlike usual, I also needed to vacuum my car out. I had in my possession one quarter and one dollar bill. issue #1. issue #2, the vacuum at the Gate station was blocked by a big white truck with no driver in sight. perfect. so I left.

Late last night I was working at Anthropologie in Jacksonville when my manager asked me to vacuum the fitting rooms. issue. times 3.

#1- the vacuum cleaner we use is the same one we used in Durham… It's a retired ghost buster machine. it straps onto the back and is as long as half of my body. I know i'm not very tall but still. So I'm going for it. I plug it in with the 20ft extension cord and guess what…issue #2: the tubey part works but not the attachment. yes, the attachment that makes it possible to vacuum a space bigger than a circle 1 inch in diameter didn' t work. I asked for help but to no avail. After about 10 minutes of frustration I put down the vacuum cleaner in order to get the other one. I'm not sure of the reason but it was the reject vacuum cleaner. Located in the side room where no one goes. there's a high pitch noise that sounds like robotic girls screaming. and it echoes because this tiny L shaped room is more like a ware house. I think to myself. this is the perfect place for a scene in a horror movie. I pick up the dirt devil hoping it was not the reject vacuum because of it's lack of ability to suck, I turn around and… yes.Issue #3: the door was locked behind me. I was locked in the creepy room with the screaming girls and a vacuum cleaner that reminded me with a taped piece of notebook paper not to throw away the filter when I clean out the dust bunnies that so faithfully congregate in anthro's fitting rooms. Oh how lovely. 

I pull out my cell phone and ask my manager to come let me out. upon opening the door she shows me the code just in case this happens again, then she points to the swinging door to my right, yes, swinging, as in, it doesn't lock. She also shows me the doorstop I could have used. so many possible ways for me not to look incompetent. So, I vacuumed. it was grand.

These are my vacuum cleaner issues.

What does this have to do with a coffee shop?

I don't know, but I was sitting in a coffee shop when I wrote this so that counts for something :)

sea shells, sharks teeth or sea glass

I was walking on the beach today when I stumbled upon one of my favorite things, a piece of sea glass. I usually find sea glass, way more often than I find sharks teeth. I can count on two fingers how many sharks teeth I have ever found. But for some reason I have the eye for sea glass. This piece I found today was amazing to me because of how I found it. It was a clear piece of glass (don't laugh, they're usually green or blue) and not only was it almost buried in the sand, but the water was washing over it. I'm not sure how I saw it, but I did. I started thinking very deeply about this piece of glass and how we all have different abilities and can see different things. My brother can spot a shark's tooth from a mile away, or, more realistically, he can spot a shark's tooth that is right in front of me. I can spot sea glass that most people overlook... hmm... Deep thinking...
deep thinking...
looking for more glass...
deep thinking...
I look up and a nice old man is walking towards me, he looks right at me and says "you know what your problem is?" Oh, great, I'm thinking, this is going to be interesting. "you can tell how old a person is by how they walk". "Oh, really?" I say to him, and he just smiles back and says "You walk like you're 65 years old! and I'm 80!" Hahaha I had no idea what to say. I was just told I walk like a 65 year old woman, from an 80 year old man! My self-confidence was soaring. No, I did not pick up my pace.

The man with no legs

I'm sitting in Starbucks, comfortable in a stiff oversized burnt orange chair across from my roommate with her venti vanilla chai latte. 

To my right is the door. If you step out the door. Walk up the slight, grassy hill. Take a left onto the sidewalk of Hwy. 55. You'll see a man standing at an intersection.

He has two metal sticks for legs and carries a flag that has a picture of a gun and a helmet hanging over it (above is my sad attempt at recreating it for you). On days when it's cold he wears a coat fit for a general in the army. on warmer days he wears his fatigues with the pant legs tied just below where his knees would be. He has the face of the drill sergeant you see in your nightmares. In his hands he carries a bucket. 

what will you do?

Most days i'm too afraid to roll down my window even if I do have spare change.

Well, really, most days i want to offer him a cup of coffee in exchange for an interview. 

I wonder where this man came from. what he's done. what he plans to do.

I wonder if he knows how intimidating he looks. I think he must know if he is wearing the clothes he wears and carrying the flag he waves.

But I wonder. I wonder about the woman and child in the picture he has propped up on the chair that sits on the median where he stands.

Maybe it's a ploy for sympathy. maybe not.

who are they? with their picture that looks just like any family photo taken in the '80s only it is printed on a crumpled up sheet of computer paper encased in a plastic protective sheet.

I wonder about this man. What is his story? how did he end up with two steel rods for legs, standing everyday at the intersection of Hwy 54 and 55. Hopefully I'll get to buy him a cup of coffee soon and let you all know what I find out. 

Wherever you are...Be there

Ever have those days when you just don't know what to say? That would be today. I'm pretty hungry right now but I'm not quite ready to go home. Since it was my day off today I've pretty much had my fill of being home. I'm sitting in a starbucks right now, hoping to overhear something interesting but all anyone is doing is what we call in developmental psychology parallel play. No one's really talking. There are about 5 people in here not having a conversation. I could tell you what they are doing but I'm sure you can guess. Each of them with their very own electronic device to keep them company. A laptop, ipad, cell phone or book, the majority of which leaves us literally silent but virtually audible. Ever wonder what it would be like if we didn't have these things? I'm sure you have. I've heard it about a hundred times "What did people do before cell phones!?" We've all thought about it.

I wonder though what we would do in coffee shops. We'd probably be a little more picky about which ones we go to. Not because of coffee but because of company. If I had to talk to the people I sat in coffee shops with I'd make a mental note about who went where. But instead we can go virtually anywhere with our cyber-selves in hand. Not truly communicating with anyone.  

There is one couple talking...but because the shop is so quiet, they are down to a whisper. Man! this place is dead. 13 people in this little coffee shop and none but two are talking. I guess I could take some of the blame for this. I've yet to say a word to anyone but the barista. 

A policeman just came in to get a venti. Probably working the night shift...

...... AHA! Problem fixed! Music! Funny how you don't realize what's missing until it shows up unexpectedly. Oh man, that is so much better.

Mr. ipad to my right starts tapping his foot to the rhythm. The couple smiles and talks just a pinch louder.  I can take out my headphones through which my music stopped playing about 20 minutes ago. Everything just turned a little more interesting. I can feel the energy in the room picking up. not in a mystical way, just in the way that you can tell people are moving a little more quickly. Well, I'm taking up a spot and the shop is full and I'm hungry. You know a coffee shop is full when a woman asks to share a tiny round table with a man she doesn't know. She pulls out her Spanish book to study, looking enviously over it at mr. ipad who has a comfy chair with his space all to himself while she has to share a table with mr. headphones. Two more tables have just opened up and one barista's shift just ended for the night. I think I will head out as well.

Tip for the day: Wherever you are... Be There.

How to know if you are ready to cut your own hair...

I'm here again. The Coffee shop with the view, nature, and cigarette smoke. Today I sat further down next to three guys- hardcore/grunge looking...they are talking about an interview with a fish in a newspaper.
One guy talks in a whisper
which kind of makes me uncomfortable because the whole table gets quiet when he talks.
You may not care but now they are talking about eating crabs and how as a kid the rock star looking one wouldn't eat them because of the "horrifying cruelness of boiling them in a pot of torture"... good point.

The big guy shares stories about the horrifying things he did to lobsters as a kid.
Most of the words used in their conversation, I decided to edit. They had potty mouths.
so they continued in edited fashion... "If a 90 year old lobster could talk he would have So Much to say!"
The whisperer speaks: "_*____*____***" (the asterisks represent the tiny noises I could hear). I assume he made some sort of recommendation to the big guy.

The big guy BLURTS out: "forget you!" (not what he really said) "cut my own hair!? Have you ever seen me pick up a sandwich or a piece of glass!? That is not a good idea!"
I had to try so hard not to laugh out loud. He made some very logical points. If one cannot easily pick up a sandwich or a piece of glass successfully they should not attempt cutting their own hair.

They leave the outside patio for a minute. Remember, this is the shop from my earlier post- go go fruit in cairo. So we are outside basically on the side of a mountain. While they are gone I decide to stay planted a little while longer. They came back down the stairs in the middle of a conversation about tinsel...
"what is tinsel?"
big guy: "it's the stuff with all the glitz and glimma'"
He's slowly becoming one of my favorites.

I watch as two people that look like brother and sister evaluate the seating situation on the side of this hill. I can tell, they'd rather sit down here but they didn't. This might have had something to do with the big guy playing air guitar.
Oh how I love people watching.

Very Random

It snowed today while I was at work! 

I watched as a cold little boy and his mom walked into the store... he was wearing what looked like her scarf wrapped far too many times around his little neck, and a thick green beanie. When he came into the store he stopped...looked right at me...and screamed! This wasn't a scared scream or a funny scream or a tired scream. This was actually more like a war cry. If you grew up with boys you know the difference. There is a certain yell a boy can make that lets you know he is ready to fight. I looked right back at him and smiled. He stopped his war cry of a scream and ran into the store, never to be seen by me again.

Also... I was thinking about putting logs in my fireplace. I wanted to do something spiffy like decorate them. Maybe have gold fire logs or some kind of cool design on them. I started to think about how spraypaint is flammable. Then I realized, I'll be painting FIRE wood. It's pretty much all guaranteed to catch on fire at some point.