Friday, March 10, 2017

Life Long dream

Tomorrow I'm going up to our cabin in the mountains for a week with my sisters. They're taking a class on baking. Bread baking, maybe. I don't know. I'll just be hanging up in the woods, breathing in the fresh air. It's a tough gig. I'm not a baker. I'm also not much for standing on my feet four hours to do something I don't have much interest in.

So here I am, back on wordaboutwords. Did you notice? It was a small glitch that I figured out all on my own. I'm feeling pretty proud of myself about it.

Here's what I want to talk about today, though.

This last year, during the silence here, I did something I've been dreaming about since I was about 12 years old. How many people can say that? When I was twelve, I read the book, The Flame Trees of Thika. After that, I began dreaming of visiting the Rift Valley of Kenya. I should be clear that I really wanted to go to the same Africa in which she lived--the early 1900s--but short of that, I'd take simply going.

In the summer of 2015, my youngest, SK, moved to the Rift Valley. Though a miraculous set of circumstances, she became the music teacher at the Rift Valley Academy. I wrote about this at the time. Her experience was life-altering for her. Transformative. She went over there wondering what God meant her to do with her life, and came home a year later, sure that God wants her to become a high school choir teacher. It might take a bit of time to get there, but she will. When God calls, He makes able. I am certain of that.

More so now than I've been before, in a way. He even anoints dreams.
It might take 47 years in the making, but He does it.

I visited the Rift Valley last summer.
This is sunset at The Rift Valley Academy. We were privileged to visit the last ten days SK was a teacher there. It was so gorgeous. I was astonished at how green and lush everything was, how steep the sides of the valley.

But after those sweet days in the valley, at RVA, watching SK in the community she'd grown to love, where she'd swelled into the role God made for her (she loved her students and the feeling was mutual!), came the part of the trip my heart swelled toward.

A safari.
Yes. This is what I've been dreaming of since I've known what it meant. A trip among the wild animals on the savannah of Kenya. It was four days that I have imagined all my life, dreamed in myriad ways. And I got to live it.



THIS!!! This moment among all moments. To see elephants in the wild. To see babies with their mamas, to see a herd together, wandering and being free. This is what I have dreamed of my whole life. And I got to see it. This close. This lovely, this amazing.

What do you dream when your one life-long dream comes true?

That's what I kept asking myself as we flew away. I loved it so much, was so blessed by it, so grateful for it. It happened. I lived it. And I will never forget it. 
 But what do I dream now?
What do you dream?

I dream of living my life like I'm always grateful. That's true, like I'm always spell-bound by what's in front of me. There are riches here. I don't have to be constrained by what I see on the news. I don't have to be stuck by what the world tells me is rotten in the state of Washington. I can look around and say, "Ah but look at this holy, created thing."
"Look at this wholly created thing."
Look up, look out. 
We live, we love. 
We get this wonderful thing called life, 
on this beautiful, diverse planet,
and I'm thankful.