I’m thankful for newborn calves, newborn people, bumpy ant hills, jumping boys, crunchy gravel, cupcakes, Radio Flyer wagons, stuffed Elmos, hot dogs, hoodies, and naps.
And, that dreams really do come true.
We spent the weekend at my family’s farm. We call it Busy Bee, named after a “black” church that was once located in the area. I don’t know if anyone outside our family knows it by that name, but sometime before I was born the name stuck. It’s 180 acres of pasture, a herd of cows, baby calves and two bulls, a giant pecan tree, and a three-bedroom farm house where my mom grew up. And, this weekend it was the place where we realized our dreams.
I spent most weekends there as a child, and for me, it has that comfortable feeling of home that comes from close sleeping quarters, lots of laughter and powerful memories. My dad has raised cattle there as a hobby my whole life and goes there almost every day, but noone has lived there since my grandparents moved into town. They are gone now, and the house had fallen into tearful disrepair until a few years ago when my parents renovated it–with some sweat, sneezing and color selection from the rest of us. I think they had some reservations about investing in the house because it is just a “second” home only 15 minutes from their house in town, and we knew we would probably never spend every weekend there again. Still, it was time to either renovate it or tear it down–and I begged, even though I knew the financial bullet would be theirs to bite. I wanted to be able to share the farm with my children “someday.”
“Realizing your dreams” is an interesting phrase. It implies a sneak-up-on-you quality that separates dreams from goals. It describes that moment when you are suddenly made aware of having something you’ve always wanted, even if you didn’t know you wanted it. Dreams are funny things. We tend to focus on big ones–the once in a lifetime, pie in the sky, ship comes in type of wishes. Sometimes those big dreams are easy because our mind halfway assumes already that they are out of reach. It’s the simpler, actually attainable dreams that can scare us. Those are the sacred desires that reveal our hearts, and show us what we’re really about. They require an inner commitment beyond just hard work. They beg for stubborn spirits and firm grasps, not of things and places, but of people–through thick, thin and thorniness.
My grandmother realized her dreams looking out the kitchen window in that farmhouse. My grandfather realized his dreams listening to beagles hunt rabbits from a lawn chair under that pecan tree. We realized our dreams in the cab of an extended cab pick-up truck by the barn.
We were just pulling out of the driveway by the tractor barn, heading to the “back” to tour the pastures and see the cows and bulls–something that had already produced much anticipation, squealing, and a flurry to put on coats. Dad was driving with my aunt in the front seat. Hub had the driver’s side back seat with Squiggle, pup-pup and bear-bear in his lap. I was in the middle getting some “sugar” (as we say in the South) from Little Drummer Boy. Mama was on the other side with Baby Girl wrapped up like a little snow bunny. The boys had already examined the remains of the bonfire that produced much jumping, laughing and hot dogs the night before. The sky was crisp and partly sunny in a blue that only Autumn can bring. I think it was my mom who said it first:
“This is what we dreamed of.”
Then, as if everyone had been secretly sipping on the same cup of sweetened bubbly joy, we all added our own realizations.
“Umm Hmm.”
“This is why we did it.”
“Our three gifts.”
“My sweet boys and Baby Girl.”
“Yes.” with an extra hug and squeeze
“Our dreams come true.”
I’m thankful for realized dreams, the fruits of our hearts’ labor with God and each other.
“For he will not often consider the years of his life, because God keeps him occupied with the gladness of his heart.” (ecclesiastes 5:20)
Hello & welcome! I’m Haley Montgomery, and I’m the designer and owner of 
