Brain-bursts make beauty

We walk in the woods, quiet, with the shine of sun overhead and the roar of water all around but my mind; it is not quiet.  Not still.  It races

I sweep the floor, quick and wash dishes tirelessly and my mind whirs on.

I ready the children for bed and I slip into the quiet hour before sleep and I hardly know what to choose from in the startling array of options on my bedside table.  Books on China and adoption, urban homesteading,  understanding the abundance of heaven, gratitude, and a few fluff items by Nicholas Sparks.  I pick the Nicholas Sparks but still my mind races.

I sit in church and while all around me people abandon themselves to worship through singing, dance, kneeling . . . me?  I journal.  I write hard and fast then slow and meditative.  Must get these endless brain bursts onto pages.  Must release the ever-dreams.  Must still the mind racing as I confide my heart to Him.

This is my walk right now.  An endless series of brain bursts that I sometimes manage to capture on paper, glowing there, like the tie die spirals Naomi and her friends make with oil pastels.  I dream and I dream and I dream.  And God, He is silent.  No, not silent.  Just quiet.  I think He is giving me space to dream.  I think He is saying that it is okay to live with unlimited options.  That it does not have to be scary not to narrow them down.  I think He is saying, dream on.

And I do.  I dream in colors and layers and textures and in different realities and I am tired, often, even when I wake.  And yet I feel more peace than I have in ages. He calls me Dreamer . . . and so I have become.

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