Lavender, Cut Flowers, Dreams, and Checkbooks

Lavender, Cut Flowers, Dreams, and Checkbooks
Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

10 years ago, I couldn’t have dreamed this farm would actually be.  I was teaching English at a college in Maryland and living in a townhouse with a yard as big as our front porch. For years, I had wished for this farm. My parents and I had looked at land. I had read all the books, including Jenna Woginrich’s Made from Scratch.* But the way to the dream, well, that was harder.

But then there was Mom’s death and Dad’s generosity, and suddenly, it was there, chickens and all.  Now, my husband – who signed onto the dream when he chose me – and my son – who has no choice but will hopefully love it – are here, too, and it’s hard and gorgeous and perfect and flawed in all the ways the best things of life are.

So now, I’m finding myself in dream state again. Sometimes, my dreams are a sign of discontent, a sign that I am resisting something in my life as it is now. At those times, I’m learning to settle in, stay steady, celebrate what already is.

But sometimes – and I think this is one of those times – my dreams are about next things, about how the times now are good but they are not all, about how there is more waiting at the edges of what is. Do you know what I mean?

So these dreams are of fragrance and color, of flowers purple and golden, of bunches and stems and photographers and a weekend full of delight. Lavender, sunflowers, some dahlias maybe.  The start of a new thing here – flowers for you (and for me, too,).  It’ll be a small start, a few lavender plants this fall. A patch of sunflowers in the garden next year.  But I hope – I pray – the dream will grow roots and get bigger.

So much could stop us – too much realism, too much concern about checkbooks, too much fear. But I believe that all things work for the good, and I believe workloads shift with dreaming. And I believe tiny boys grow into wild children who love playing while their mother tends a field of purple flowers. I lean into dreams, and I trust that mighty hands hold me because those hands gifted me the dream.

Here’s what I hope the dream looks like someday. You and your family and friends here during a weekend of the summer to get lavender and sunflowers, to stand in fields of golden light and smell the purple fragrance of relaxation, to dream lemonade and toast a marshmallow – and to breathe deep the breath of life, friends.  That’s the dream.

Now, we get to live into it. And friends, oh friends, I so hope you are living into your dreams, too.

*This is an affiliate link, so if you follow it and then make a purchase, I get a small commission at no extra cost to you. Every bit helps in building the dream, friends.

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