When Dreams Die

Why does God allow dreams to die?

I asked Him that a few months ago and thought that I heard Him answer: Because I love you.

Years ago, I used to bring that dream out of my pocket every once in a while, dust it off and look at it, wonder if it would happen.  “God, I thought you promised…”

Then I relegated it to the top shelf.  I’d have to get a ladder to look at it.  “Maybe I didn’t hear right.  Maybe I misunderstood…”

Then that dream went into a storage box buried deep in the basement.  “Boy, good thing that never happened…”

And then, this summer, after  a torrential rain storm, we were cleaning out the flooded basement.  Everything was wet and we had to pull out all the baby junk that we had stored away.  The crib, the toys, the books, the dream.  We had no use for it.  It was just taking up room.

“Let’s just get rid of it all.  We could have a yard sale and clean out this basement.”  And I agreed.  What a relief to get rid of it all. Plans were made.  We would make some money and put it towards our vacation next year.

But a couple of weeks before the yard sale, my wife came to me and said, “I’m late.”

I thought: No, no, no. That’s ridiculous! That’s absurd!  We’ve already done this before, and I know where it ends. I said, “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

But then a week before the yard sale, she came back and said, “You know if we sell all this stuff and shouldn’t have, we’re going to kick ourselves.”
”Take the test. Let’s clear things up before we do this yard sale.”

And so I was downstairs in the basement when she called my name, “Craig! Can you come here please?”  It was the way she said it..kind of scared.  My heart sank.

God lets dreams die, only to resurrect them again at the proper time. Because God is a God of Resurrection.

And so after turning 40 later this year, we will be celebrating a new birth day in our family next spring…

The birth of our third child.

God has a sense of humor…doesn’t He?

Almost, but Not Quite…

I recently was digging through some “posts” that I wrote (but never published) during a blogging sabbatical.  I found one that dredges up fresh emotions as I read it again. I can remember that day 4 years ago, like it was yesterday.  It was right when my youngest sister was getting married:

April 2006

Have you ever been late in a good way?  I haven’t and my wife almost never is.  So it seemed that this was an exception.

It’s been 6 years since ~K~ was born and all hope of ever having another child has been dead and buried. We’ve wanted more kids, we’ve tried for more kids, but after 5 years, all hope is gone of this ever being so (although it is technically feasible). And when I think about it, I also think, "Are you crazy?  Life is so easy now, when it won’t be if we have another."

So when my wife mentioned this being late, I blew it off.  A couple days later, she mentioned it again and I blew it off again, but with less assurance.  This was unusual, but not unheard of.

But then there are the whispers of dreams, long gone and the resurfacing of dead hopes.  The insanity of it all starts to become something that you want to happen, but not really, but almost.

What would it be like?  Our lives would be changed forever.  But that has happened twice before and it has been all good.  Hard, but good.   My parents did it.  My youngest sister was born 10 years after me and is getting married this weekend.  Our family wouldn’t have been the same without her, although in a lot of ways she was an only child.  Hard, but good.

Then we took a pregnancy test.  I say we because I encouraged it.  Hadn’t really been involved with finding out about the other kids, but this one, I said, "Go for it!"  We waited together, our collective hope bobbing on the surface and tasting the dream-filled breezes that had just started to blow.
It was negative.

How do you stuff down those dreams, only recently awakened?  How do you let them die again and let the sterile, relief-filled stillness of practicality tell you that it is better this way? Hope, not yet fatally deflated, whispers that the test could be wrong.  Probably not, but it could be wrong.

And yet I can still hope in a God Who can be Trusted, even with this dying hope and fallen dreams.

Hope is not dead.

Heb 11:19.  Abraham reasoned that God could raise the dead, and figuratively speaking, he did receive Isaac back from death.

This month ~K~ will be turning 10.

Weekend Dad

Saturday morning was a rainy affair and the 2 soccer games that were originally planned were cancelled.  I was sitting with the boys eating breakfast and just goofing off.

Even if we had the soccer games, I was relieved it was Saturday after a normal, but frustrating and difficult week.  But I was curious at how my perception of the week played out on our family. So I asked a question:

“So do you guys like ‘Weekday Dad’ or ‘Weekend Dad’ better?”

Without hesitation came the answer: “Weekend Dad.”

“Why?” I asked, not surprised by the answer.

“Because ‘Weekend Dad’ is more fun and not as grumpy.”

Ya, that about sums it up.

What Is This?

A fuzzy blue blob that we saw on a hike last weekend.  It was sitting in the middle of the trail, and at first we thought it was a woman’s hair scrunchy thing.

Has anybody seen one of these before? Or know what it is?

The boys decided it was the poop from a rare blue pooping crane.  As good a guess as any.

Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop

(Aside: If you were curious where the phrase originated from, you might find the answer interesting.)

This phrase seems to describe the uneasiness that I struggle with every once in a while.  It’s like every thing is going great at home, at work, in my family. It is almost like things are going too well, and I am waiting for that other shoe to drop and let The Unfortunate Event make its entrance in our lives.

Sometimes its a small thing, sometimes big, but always unexpected and unwelcome.

A flooded basement, a broken down car, the unexpected phone call with bad news.  And then there are those things that you don’t even want to mention out loud, for fear they might happen.

Even as I write this, I can feel that pit in my stomach, that nervous anxiety that comes when waiting for the other shoe to drop. I wonder how I will handle it.  Will it be big or small this time? Will it involve my wife or kids? How can I bear it?  The anxiety grows…and blooms into fear.

There is a word for this type of thinking: Unbelief.

“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers…against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.”

–Eph. 6:12

There is Someone out to get me, to destroy me and take my family down.  He puts me on this anxious path to fear, dragging my thoughts to the worst possible conclusion.

I fear because I don’t believe that God will be there, that He won’t come through.  I’m afraid that He’ll let me down and leave me to my own devices to handle those Unfortunate Situations. But those fears are not based in Truth.

He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him over for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things?

–Rom. 8:32

And so the battle begins:  Will I let my fears control me? Or will I trust that what God says is true?

Today, our pastor spoke on Unbelief out of Mark 9.  The father of the son with the demon cried out to Jesus, “…If You can do anything, take pity on us and help us!”  You can hear his desperation.  He was at the end of his rope and desperate. 

Jesus’ response: “ ’If you can?’ All things are possible to him who believes.”  A promise. A rope thrown to a drowning man.  A life line.

And the man responds grabbing the rope: “I believe, help my unbelief.”

That is my prayer today. Lord, I trust you in this situation.  I give you my anxiety and fears. I trust that even if the other shoe drops, You will be there.  You will throw the rope. You will be my strength.

Help my unbelief.

Rain (Pool) Party

Yesterday, we planned to have ~K~’s birthday party. Granted, his birthday isn’t for another 2 months, but then again, the pool isn’t open in October either.

We did this last year and all went swimmingly.  The weather was perfect.  But as has been  the theme here this summer, it was not to be this year.

The weather threatened, but looked like it might clear up, so at a late hour we decided to follow one of the lessons we learned from inclement weather.  Simply put: Make the plan. Work the plan. Ignore the weather.  So off we went to the pool.

The kids got about 15 minutes of pool time before it started thundering and they made everybody get out of the pool. By then the pizzas came and so we did pizzacakebirthdaypresents all together each lightning bolt let loose, tacking 20 more minutes to wait before we could reclaim the pool.

And then the sky let loose in a real thunder storm and pool time was over. For good.  We ended bringing everybody back to the house to play. 

And it turned out that the kids had more fun there anyway.  At least that’s what they said when they left.

It wasn’t quite what we planned, but not a bad result.

His Kind Intention

Recently at work I’ve been involved in resolving a very serious customer issue involving millions of dollars of equipment.  I’ve had to go to daily status meetings  where the environment has been tense and confrontational and where I have to daily answer for how I (and others) are making progress on the issues.  Unpleasant at first, these daily meetings (beatings, I’ve called them) have become wearisome and dreaded after a few weeks. I’ve found myself defensive and guarded, trying to say as little as possible.

My quiet times have grown sparse and infrequent—the avoidance of yet another “duty” that has been placed on me—to submit to another master, face another expectation.  I’ve projected the stern, confrontational disciplinarian image on God, and I can’t face facing Him.

But doesn’t it seem that way sometimes? You find yourself in a life situation that comes out of the blue.  You get blindsided by something that you never saw coming. And you ask, “What did I do to deserve this?” “How did I get into this mess?” And you wonder how you’ll survive.

I know I’ve questioned why God has allowed certain things in my life.

This morning, I saw the words in Eph. 1:9: “…His kind intention…” The whole verse is:

He made known to us the mystery of His will, according to His kind intention which He purposed in [Jesus]…

It reminded me of the safe loving arms that we find in our Heavenly Father.  He may allow certain things in our lives, but it is always in Love.  I may question why He allows the situation, but am reminded that no matter the circumstances, His intention toward us is kind.

Instead of conflict, there is a shelter. Instead of an adversary, there is a place of rest and hope.  I can lay down my defenses and be safe in His presence.

I don’t know how to get through it, or what the outcome will be, but I can trust that God will be with me in it, and that He loves me and intends to show His kindness to me.

How Wet is Your Summer?

Usually by now, the sun has beat down on the grass in my yard so hard that it is dry, brown and rarely needs mowing more than every three weeks.

But this year, if I’m not mowing every week, the yard turns into a jungle.

Yeah, we’ve had a little rain this summer.