Holding Patterns and Purity

The other day, my brother and I walked down our street (isn’t it funny to call a street “ours”?) to pay a visit to the local lemonade stand that some of the children in our neighborhood set up.

Personal protocol for such an adventure: go with bare feet and extra change—even when walking across gravel.

As we paid our 50 cents (and hopefully a little extra), memories of childhood days spent dreaming and risking came at me like a wave—I saw that distant picture of a little girl with nothing to lose and everything to gain.

I remember the days of my own summer lemonade stands. I believed that such an endeavor could bring in record amounts of money to fund our (meaning my younger siblings who helped hold up signs for their bossy big sister) addiction to sugar. And it did. After a hard day of sign waving, shouting to get the attention of our neighbors, and replacing the lemonade after hitting a jackpot of thirsty customers, we would evenly distribute that hard earned change to each kid, put it into a plastic baggie, and walk a few blocks to the local candy store to purchase cowtales and now&laters.

In my heart, there was an innate knowing that the sky is the limit. Dream a dream. Put action to that dream. Nothing is impossible.

These days my ambitions have seemingly grown beyond earning a few dollars by selling lemonade. And everything feels far away and impossible. (Maybe that’s what happens with the transition into a grown up world—a world that some kids know from too young of an age )

Unfortunately, ambition seems to be less appealing than advertised.

I’m not really a fan.

Maybe a kid who makes and sells lemonade for a chance to go buy a candy bar that evening holds a secret that beats out ambition. Maybe it’s in the simplicity of the endeavor. Maybe it’s in the lack of worry about whether the business will succeed or fail. After all, there’s still dinner waiting at the table when the day comes to an end, regardless of whether any customers come by that day.
In a world where success and failure define how we view ourselves and operate, what a miracle to have eyes that glow with the raw pleasure of being free and able to execute a marvelous plan well and not care whether it succeeds or fails.
That’s what I want.

I write this while my life feels like it is in a holding pattern of sorts. I’m not sure what is ahead, but for now it is in waiting that I am expecting brilliance. The last month of summer is here and the last few months are filled with stories of brokenness and growth and deep down joy.

Dreams are starting to stir again. But more importantly, I feel faith expanding in my heart to make the leap from dreams to action—the risk factor that’s been missing the past few years.

Dreams for the nation of Nicaragua—for the people that I fell in love with at twelve years old. Dreams of filmmaking and medical missions and being a voice of truth. Dreams of family dinners and laughing children and bedtime stories. Dreams of living a life fully surrendered to Jesus, found daily in the amazing story of his death and resurrection. Dreams of sailboats and cool summer nights and friendships full of God’s love. Dreams of travel and adventure and growing a garden full of fresh vegetables and flowers.

And as these dreams are returning, I’m noticing now the wisdom of God to bring us into holding patterns. He takes those moments where the dreams are not coming and life is mundane to teach a lesson deeper than the emotions of a stirred up dream. In the daily grind there is brilliance in the cultivation of character—in learning that a dream comes attached with a price to pay that is not for a heart that is easily dismayed. Until I have the character to walk out the weight of a heavenly dream, there will not be a foundation to keep me steady when the waves hit and the wind blows. And that puts the fear of God into my heart.