Wednesday, September 8, 2010

dreamscape



I woke up the other day with your stories in my head. All your stories of hopes and dreams and struggles and sorrows and joys, swirling in the mists of early morning. Then your stories swirled away, and in their place was a kind of panorama of my stories. And, still in the mists of sleep, I think I had a revelation. No, that's too pretentious. But it was certainly a glimpse. I don't know if I can put it into words, but I want to try, because it was lovely.

I'll be 55 in November. Not old, but certainly not young. I've seen my share of joy and my share of sorrow. I've been pretty sick in recent years, and sometimes I get awfully weary. Life is not what I hoped and dreamed it would be when I was young. There are days when I wonder what it all means. What purpose it achieves.

So in this pleasantly somnolent early morning mist, my stories unfolded. Not a complete panorama, but a good slice of memories....

my brother, sister, and i sitting around a worn oak table, mom teaching us to draw... dad testing the lake to make sure it was frozen, stomping cautiously in his old rubber boots, marking out the safe areas before i was allowed to skate... the agony of my parent's divorce... the joy of my own wedding day... the day my only daughter was born, and i first saw her face, a tiny replica of her father's, and so perfect it took my breath away... dad's death and all the pain that followed... mom's frightening brush with death... my hospitalization at age fourteen — the beginning of a life lived under the shifting shadows of illness... the fun of playing an oboe solo with a killer reed... a good book waiting to be read... laughing with friends over something inane... my husband's 200-year-old family farm, lost to the financial realities of Alzheimer's disease... the pleasure of reading to my daughter when she was young... the joy of reading something she has written now... the satisfaction of a walk with my dog on a crisp winter's day...

Happiness... Hurt... Joy... Sorrow... Music... Laughter... Pain...

Dreams fulfilled. Dreams broken. A panorama.

And within this swirling kaleidoscope of memory, running through its core, was a single, indestructible thread. Love. Tender, patient, pursuing, liberating, healing, sustaining, all-encompassing, Love. The meaning of it all. The thing that makes it all make sense. The thing that makes it all okay. The thing that someday, when this life is over, will lead me home to the place the Lover of my soul has made for me. The place where I will see Him face to face and I will understand it all and I will say, "Oh, now I see.You pursued me for this."

And I will worship.



(joining hands with emily for imperfect prose, this thursday)



24 comments:

That Crazy Family said...

Such beautiful descriptiveness in your words that makes my eyes water!

Debbie D. said...

May a joy always keep you, and may more dreams be fullfilled!

Nancy said...

I remember my dad stomping on frozen ponds and lakes as well. Vivid, poignant memories and, yes, one day all will be made clear!

elizabeth said...

Beautiful!

deb said...

exquisite.
and I have a slew of photos of myself napping with my dog. :)

I am beyond joy having "met" you sweet Leslie.

I am living in this love... trying... and loving the you that you gift.

B. Meandering said...

Simply awesome. When you just 'be' and let the words flow, God speaks from your heart and touches us all.
I love the picture. Scruffy and I sleep that way too.

Jodi said...

what a lovely tapestry to lay at His feet.

Brian Miller said...

ah. love this...the line that runs through it all and points forward to that day...nice write...

Elisabelle said...

do you know any French?
one wise told men some day: " la vie est long fleuve de souffrances émaillé de quelques joies"

Kim Hyland said...

I thought "tapestry" too, like Jodi. You give us a glimpse of the beauty of what otherwise seems like disconnected events. How precious to know that He is weaving our lives. Thanks, Leslie.

emily wierenga said...

i'm weeping. really, this is so utterly raw and beautiful and it makes me understand. life. thank you, leslie. xo

Claudia said...

…and i will worship… best ending ever!

S. Etole said...

Habbakuk 3:17-19 lived ... and wonderfully written. I will praise Him, too ....

Rachel said...

Thank~You this was very encouraging, what wonderful worship!

Ruth said...

I understand those moments. Remembering, present moment events, future-so intermingled. People and moments that make up our lives and His love and grace that sustains. Thanks for sharing

Regards,
Ruth V

Flower Patch Farmgirl said...

This is entirely beautiful. Your list was an afghan and a bowl of cheesy potato soup. It warmed me and cozied me up.

julie said...

Wonderful descriptions. We should all take time to sift those precious, old memories - the good and the bad - and seek to learn and be thankful.

Tracy said...

The beauty of your words and images conjured are breathtaking, Leslie...truly beautiful... :o) ((HUGS))

Francesca said...

This seems perfect to me. I wish it was easier to find that thread, or not to lose sight of it in the vastness of the panorama.

Graceful said...

Oh this description made me hold my breath in awe and wonder...especially that last paragraph. Lovely.

Carrie Burtt said...

Leslie, this is wonderful...a lovely imperfect prose...i love it! :-)

keLi said...

yes, love -- that makes all worth it.

great post, Leslie.

♥ w o o l f ♥ said...

that's a life...
all our stories...
all those particulars and pecularities. it's nice, to just stop and think it over, from time to time; like you did.

Wind-kissed said...

Leslie, what a wonderful capture of all that is you. You writing touches me to the depth. May you hold blessings in you hands. Sue