They're calling me up

So tonight for the first time, I watched The Rookie with Dennis Quaid. This movie fit in nicely with some thoughts I've been having about my dreams. Not the kind of dreams that you have at night while you are asleep, or even the kind of dreams you have while you sit through a boring lecture in class.

But the kind of dreams that make your heart race. The ones you've held inside, and probably not told a single soul about. The ones that you first started formulating when you were 5, or 10, or maybe even 13. The dreams that kept you going before you could start driving, before you had to choose a college, and before you had children. The dreams that defined you for so long and that made you feel light-headed when you thought them and about the moment when you would finally be able to take the steps toward achieving them.

For some people, probably for more little boys than I can imagine, that dream is to play in the Big Leagues.

But of course most little boys don't make it that far. And most of them probably don't even try.

From the beginning it seems too daunting. Maybe it's too much work, maybe somebody somewhere told them it was too much of a long shot. Or maybe they got close, but threw out a shoulder, or had back problems, like my dad. Maybe they made it to the minors but were just too short by a few inches, like my grandpa and my brother.

Whatever the reason, somehow, some way, most of us have given up on our dreams. Stuffed them down deep like that last bite of Thanksgiving Turkey. Sat back, unbuttoned our pants, and zoned out on some football. Or maybe even fallen asleep.

We live on auto pilot because we have to. Like Jimmy Morris in the movie, we have three children, papers to grade, a car payment, a lawn to mow, a strained relationship with our parents, and not enough time for any of that. Much less our dreams.

I've been thinking a lot about dreams lately because I'm reading a book called Sacred Romance by John Eldredge, and it talks about how our hearts have two parts: the part that holds the Sacred Romance and the part that holds our Broken Arrows. The Sacred Romance is the part that God gave us. The part of beauty and love and a slice of heaven. The part that most of us with normal loving childhoods live out of when we are young. It's that part of ourselves that just knows we are that one special boy who is going to make it to the Majors, or that one special girl who really will have our Prince slip on the magic slipper.

When we are young, we just KNOW that we are going to live happily ever after.

And then we are 32. Or 42. And we just aren't. Instead, we are living in the Broken Arrows part of our heart. The part that God didn't intend for us. The part that holds all the hurts we've experienced. The names we've been called, the times we disappointed our parents or our teachers. The times they've disappointed us. The first love that just didn't quite make it. The first promotion that we just didn't get.

We live in the Broken Arrows, and we pay our bills, and we tuck our children in at night. We punch the clock at 8:15 and punch it again at 5. Step by step, one foot in front of the other, we pass our lives. And our dreams pass us.

But what if it's not too late? What if we could be like Jim Morris....who was a real man by the way, and who really did make it to the Majors when he was 35. What if, at an age where no one thinks it's possible, at an age where even we have forgotten about the dreams we once had, what if we dug deep, pulled them out, dusted them off, and gave it a try??

I know. It doesn't seem possible, does it? But think about it. Think about that dream you always had. Break it down, break it open, break it apart and examine it. You probably even had more than one, and now that you are thinking about it, it's probably a little bit exciting to think about isn't it? It probably hurts just a little bit too.

Jimmy Morris had more than one dream.

Throughout the movie, Jim struggled with wanting to be with his wife, while wanting to be on the field. Wanting to make his dad proud, while needing to be a good dad on his own. Wanting to inspire the students on his team, while needing to be a success at work.

We cannot be all things to all people. But we ARE all things to one person. Ourselves. And we are all things to God. We have to find a balance between the Sacred Romance and the Broken Arrows. But in doing so, we can't just forget about our dreams.

When I was a little girl I wanted to be a veterinarian, a best-selling novelist, a Claire Huxtable mother, and a Cinderella wife. Instead I have 2 dogs, this new blog, too many times of yelling in a day to be Claire Huxtable, and no man searching his entire kingdom for only me.

But somehow here lately, my heart feels more free, and somehow, by thinking about my dreams, reading that book, talking with God, seeing that movie, and yes, talking with my counselor, I'm starting to shed some of my Broken Arrows. And as I shed all those Broken Arrows, I'm realizing that maybe I am living my dream after all.

Maybe it wasn't stuffed back down deep with that cranberry sauce from November, and maybe....just maybe.... it's right in front of my nose.

At the end of the movie, when Jim Morris finally gets called up, he gets to tell his son. He gets to make his son proud and show him that dreams really do come true, and here is how the exchange goes:

Jim: "Your daddy is gonna be a major league pitcher!"

Hunter: "Cool. I can't believe it! Who you gonna play for?"

Jim: "They're called the Devil Rays."

Hunter: "What's a Devil Ray?"

Jim: "It's a fish."

Hunter: "What color is it?"

Jim: "Black."

Hunter: "Can you eat it?"

Jim: "I don't know bud, it's got a stinger."

Hunter: "Cool."

Jim's son, who was with him at every game he coached, who was with him when he tried out for the Majors, and who listens to every Minor League game he has pitched, really only cares about one thing: being with his dad. He doesn't ask about the team. He doesn't ask about the money. He doesn't ask about the pitching. He just wants to talk with his dad about a fish.

And really....isn't that the stuff dreams are made of??

"I tell you the truth. If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move."
Matthew 17:20