Dream like New York

Mail time has always been a much anticipated event at our house. People have argued over the priviledge of getting the mail from the mailbox and everyone jostles over each other to see what has arrived in the day's stack. Will there be letters from pen-pals or the latest issue of a good magazine? Maybe there will be a surprise package even!

And then there are days when the mail is a disappointment. Usually it's the lack of fun mail that is disappointing. But today, for me, it comes in the form of an envelope that holds a rejected manuscript from a children's magazine.

I had promised myself not to get my hopes up, but in spite of myself, I did hope and wish, for maybe, just maybe, a nice slim letter telling me that they loved my short story and would be happy to publish it.

They didn't.

Most of me didn't expect to receive the response that I would have liked, but I'm still a little sad. I wish they liked it. I wish it were easier to find a magazine that would want to publish my work.

And I'm trying to fight discouragement today. Writing hasn't been easy for me lately, inspiration being low and time even scarcer. Will anything I write ever be something worth publishing? I find myself re-reading journal entries from close to two years ago. In one entry, I copied and pasted the lyrics to a favorite song, and suddenly, I find them incredibly encouraging.

Race to work again today
From nine to five
I only strive to stay awake
But the child inside me
Dares to believe I still can fly
Can’t let those dreams just die

I got to dream like New York
As high as the skyline
Aim for the stars above those city lights
I want to dream like New York
I’m running down Broadway
I got to catch the next train
I’m making my way
("Dream Like New York" - Tyrone Wells)

With life as of late, full of work and studying and busyness...I feel like I'm constantly striving and not always succeeding, especially when it comes to writing. But...I still dream. I dream about words, longing to create something that will thrill the reader, just as words have always excited and thrilled me. I want to write. I have to write, even when my words feel petty and small and foolish.

Setbacks always come. Discouragement always comes. But we can't give up on dreaming and trusting and hoping. Dreams always take work, but in the end, it's worth it.

This week will find me going to the post office with another envelope and another manuscript for another magazine.

I'm dreaming like New York and this manuscript just might make it on the next train.

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I Have a Dream

*picture taken by Grace Ramsey*

It's only a small one.

It consists of several pictures, pictures of gentle images and sentimental emotions. I dream of one day walking up a lovely, quiet country lane, or a short, quaint walk, to a small house, an old fashioned, sweet little house, with yellow walls and white curving swirls of wood framing the edges of the porch. The white planks of the porch floor echo beneath my feet and the summer day is washed in a dreamlike stillness.

Inside, the forms of the walls, the antique furnishings, and quiet coverings of the floor are laced in vagueness, like a blurred picture, waiting to be sharpened with the advent of time.

There are warm, comfortable rooms, and quiet, sun drenched ones, sitting rooms with braided rugs and bedrooms with homey quilts. There are windows everywhere and the sun pours in to fill the air with light. Curtains hang before them, to shield the furniture and soften the shape of the walls.

The clarity of the interior of my little house remains in obscurity.  I can't see precisely how it will look. But I can see the dim outlines of the people that will be there, and the things that will fill my shelves. I can see a small kitchen table and a small kitchen chair, a figure there, awaiting the care I so long to give him, smelling the smells of my kitchen, smiling when I smile at him.

*picture taken by James Ramsey*

That is my dream, only a simple one. It is a dream of quaint little house, and the man of my heart's longing within it.

-Emma

Editors Note: This post was written by Emma Ramsey and is being republished here by permission.

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Dreams

I was a little girl alone in my little world who dreamed of a little home for me.
I played pretend between the trees, and fed my houseguests bark and leaves, and laughed in my pretty bed of green.

I had a dream
That I could fly from the highest swing.
I had a dream.

Long walks in the dark through woods grown behind the park, I asked God who I'm supposed to be.
The stars smiled down on me, God answered in silent reverie. I said a prayer and fell asleep.
- Priscilla Ahn, “Dream”

Dreaming comes easily for me. Dreaming is almost as natural as breathing. I suppose it comes like that for just about every little girl, for every woman. For me, as a writer, dreams are easily spun and hard to dissolve.

Dreams of a man who would capture my heart. Dreams of marrying young and a houseful of babies. Dreams of writing magnificent stories. Dreams of keeping a home. Dreams of sunshine, joy and grace. I certainly never dreamed of a desk in an office, of answering phones and making numbers match up neatly – numbers when math was never my forte! I never dreamed that I would be living at home yet still, much less sharing a small room with a sister. I never dreamed that words would still come difficult to me, that my fingers would stumble when dancing over the keys. I never dreamed…so very many things.

And so many dreams are still waiting unanswered. It’s true, God has replaced my dreams with wonderful things, with hard times that have borne fruit. And I’m still young. I still have plenty of time for dreaming.

Because, I still dream. I dream about a man who will capture my heart, about a little home of our own. Of children. Of that beautiful someday. I can’t help dreaming. But as I dream, I am learning that my dreams aren’t always God’s best for me. I’m learning to dream, but to also stop clinging to them.

After all, dreams are of tomorrows, but I have today. Today I am single. Today I work with numbers and answer phones, today I babysit my siblings and grit my teeth over the mess that comes from sharing a room with my sister, today I struggle with finding the words that don’t come easily. And as I live this life, I let God have my dreams – He knows them and knows best what to do with them.

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"Spring Cleaning"

Fall 2007

I've been thinking recently. Mom's been doing a lot of 'spring cleaning' at our house. Getting rid of extra clutter and things we don't need or use. I've been meaning to do the same. Get rid of extra stuff I have lying around. I don't really need to drag it all to our new house. Then when David and Kristi were here this weekend, Kristi mentioned that she had been doing the same thing. *DING!* O.k. I'm paying attention now! So, during church on Sunday there were so many thoughts coming to mind that I had to jot them down. This is what I came up with.

I sit here and think about the fact that I so often tell myself that

"I'm not ready and I don't know what to do about it. I'm too busy. "

Too busy doing what??? Concentrating on the things in the carnal, on the natural things that are before me? On the thing on this level that God has given me to do. But yet, my mind is not in the place it needs to be. I find myself asking what happened? What happened to the time when I could pray without ceasing. What happened to waking up each morning with a song on my lips and a prayer in my heart. What happened to me?

Of course I could easily dismiss it as just a step up in the battle. A spiritual war is raging and it gets hotter every day. Dismiss it and go back to doing what God requires of me naturally on a day to day basis. But what about the spiritual requirements? If the battle step up every day, why don't I step it up every day. I can't stay on one level while everything else goes up. Dad just reminded me of Narnia's Last Battle;

"Further up and further in!"

But I think to myself, I'm too tired to run. What do I do? Where do I turn?
I need to go and do some serious cleaning. Naturally and spiritually. What are my priorities? What I want, or what God desires of me, even if I don't like it. Even if I don't like it. *gulp* yep *swallows* Because if I do it, God's will becomes my will. His desires, my desires. and then when my dreams fade away and He is the dream, I won't be questioning anymore. I won't wonder, worry and stumble around in the dark stubbing my toe on the clutter in my life.

I have a destiny, a purpose, a place in the perfect will of God. Get your priorities straight, clean up and let go of the things in your life that are holding you back and then set your sights on God. Lock your eyes on Him and don't look back. Then your destiny will be fulfilled. And your dreams will not seem unfulfilled and fruitless. They will be God's plan for you and they will be fulfilled and fruitful unto Him.

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