what comes after a god-sized dream?
i’m on my knees, leaning over a bathtub. again.
i’m sitting on the living room floor folding clothes, watching television. again.
i’m putting forks where forks go, spoons with spoons.
my everyday is to make the small world of this family work.
but what of god-sized dreams?
there is a thought in church circles that if you tap into the longing, the knowledge that we can do much more than ordinary – that the risk takers rise to the surface.
the people who feel the eternity placed in their hearts, the ones who would sell everything they own and follow him. place before them the wild adventure of what can be done, and they just might do it.
that was the best part.
the hope that the grandeur of nature also resided in me. and i’d met the god who knew how to unlock it.
i’m spraying the dining room table with murphy’s oil soap. again.
i’m separating chicken breasts and wrapping them in foil.
i’m climbing up on a bunk bed and pulling sheets over, sufficient for another night of sleep. again.
my pride is as big as god.
home has done the job. submission to the day to day with the curveballs it has thrown did the job. it has taken my god-sized pride and has beaten it on the rocks.
i thought i should be well-known.
i thought i would be always young, always lovely.
i thought i should be admired and that notes would be taken as i spoke.
so what comes next?
what comes after pride and dreams as big as god?
maybe god himself? maybe after we fool ourselves and spend everything we have for fake diamonds and fool’s gold, maybe then god himself shows up.
that’d be interesting. that’d be nice. i’ll be folding laundry and drinking milk stout if anyone comes looking.