These days, my dreams have been revealing themselves to me, sometimes subtle. Sometimes full force, there is no denying they are there. It seems as if the more I stepped out in faith, in quitting my job, taking in Ernie's brother, and co-leading MOMS at church, the more my eyes have been opened to unlimited possibilities that exist in my future.
When I was a young girl I enjoyed playing house, school, and Barbies. It doesn't surprise me that eventually I wound up a teacher and then a work at home mom. However, there were in between years where I dreamed of being a marine biologist. Unfortunately, in high school I realized the math and science that were involved and quickly changed my course.
Next on my dream list was to become a journalist. I remember vividly, Communications Day, which was offered to Seniors at the college I would be attending that fall. I breezed through my workshops, I took notes from speakers and by nightfall, I began to waver. My self esteem battled with thoughts of: how many people really make it in this field? You enjoy writing, but are you good enough? And just like that, I changed course again and settled on teaching. Because I knew what I wanted I was done in three and a half years, had a teaching job lined up at the age of twenty-one, and I never looked back. I enjoyed what I did: four years at elementary, adult school, six at the high school, and six at middle school. I was good at what I did. Once upon a long time ago, my friend and I even told the Superintendent and Assistant Super that one day we would be doing what they were doing. And I probably would too, if I hadn't had kids. For me, kids changed everything. . .for the best.
And so began my dream changing. . .I dreamed of working part time, and God answered my prayer. Even though I didn't love the middle school level, I was still able to do what I was so good at, as well as be more present with my kids. Four years into it, after a series of events, I dreamed of life at home with my kids. It seemed like a pretty big dream to dream with a husband settling into a new career, but I dreamed and prayed about it anyways. And again, God answered my prayer. I would now only work one day a week for the next two years. It was the best of both worlds for awhile, but when they needed me to go back full time I decided to walk away. Seventeen years and I was ready for change. Dare I say, even excited about it!
The next year home would be me pouring into our youngest with homeschool, along with starting up my own writing business. I would teach around the kitchen table for two hours a week with a hand full of students. It has been very good for me to do what I enjoy, with kids who I enjoy, but I've recently been asking myself what do I want from this experience? Is this experience preparing me for something else around the bend? Could I revisit my childhood dream of becoming a journalist. Would my words written down on paper eventually become something more if I poured into that dream as much as I had poured into my education and the raising of our children?
I have no idea.
None. I've been seeing and hearing from multiple sources all over social media that my story matters. I am the author of it. So today I will write. Today I will dream about the impact of my words, even if it's only in the lives of my own family. May they always know they are the best stories I have ever written. They are enough.
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