This week of Christmas has been absolutely wonderful ... I just love spending time with the whole family. Tuesday will come so quickly here, the day life must return to some sense of " normalcy " as my husband needs to return to his other job ... the one that pays in money. but before life gets too mundane, I thought I would share a dream I had this week, and shared at our church this morning.
See, I used to be a runner, though not necessarily by choice; rather, it was thrust upon me. I was on the High School rowing team, and part of our daily regime was to run for an hour if we weren't on the water actually rowing the boat. It was a lot of hard work, but it paid off in the end when we won our races. Anyway, in my dream I was running in some type of school building with lots of stairs, and I knew I had either 31 or 33 laps to run in total. This should have overwhelmed me, as I have exercise-induced asthma in reality, but I was primed and ready ... in spandex.
I looked good. ( this is a dream, you remember ). What caught my eye were the people I saw slumped against the walls of the hall. Each person on the ground had someone on either side of them, though I did not hear any encouraging words or notice any help being offered ... just an awareness that some had given up the race. I stopped. I said to one woman across from me, " how prepared were they anyway? "
Not the politically correct thing to say.
She looked really peeved, but I repeated myself nonetheless ... " no, really ... how prepared were they?" The woman started to run ahead of me, and on the staircase I begged her, " Look at how long my legs are ... they come all the way up to here! " ( I really do have incredibly, rediculously long legs ... am often called crazy legs campbell, but that is another story, for another healing session ) I digress ... I begged her to look at my legs " I was made to run ! " and run I did.
Our Pastor's wife then approached the front of the gym where we meet for service, and said she had a dream only last night where we had all been praising and worshipping Father in song. It must have been 4 am, she remarked, and a priest came into the room and questioned her, as she was the leader, saying: " how can you keep doing this? "
Her easy response was " I was made to worship."
I believe we were made for a purpose that only we can fulfull. I believe that Father has put this deep into our DNA. I believe with all my heart that when we are doing the things we were created for it enables us to look into the face of our Maker and feel His presence even more deeply. It is a knowing that slowly creeps into the very fibre of our being and simply resonates. Like a wet finger caressing a crystal goblet until the sound fills the room, and you wonder at its beauty. That painting that becons you to take another look, drawing you in until you are captivated by its complexity. That feeling that comes over you at the dinner table as you silently observe your family enjoying the fruit of your labours and you are reminded of what a good thing "home" is.
Homeschooling is one of those "things" that I feel I was made to "do", and my children feel it too.
