This One's for the Girls

Do you remember that Martina McBride song, "This One's for the Girls"?  It came out around the time I was living on my own and spreading my wings, and it was my anthem for awhile.  The verses are directed to girls of different ages.  To the girls in high school, Martina urges them to "stand their ground when everyone's giving in".  To the girls in their twenties, "living on dreams and Spagettio's", she encourages them to embrace the journey of life.  To the girls in their forties (and older, presumably, since her video features grannies in their seventies and eighties), Martina reminds them that "every laugh line on your face made you who you are today."  I love this song because it recognizes that as we age, we enter a new stage of life.  We shift our priorities and our hopes, we live differently.

First class, baby!

This week, I spent several days in airports and hotels.  It reminded me SO MUCH of my early twenties, the magical two years between college and marriage when I worked as a flight attendant.  I was living on dreams and Spagettio's in those days.  But I was living.  Instead of taking the job that I could do and would pay my bills, I took the job that excited me and enabled me to travel extensively. I went to Europe and saw aurora borealis and explored museums and new cities.

Just moments before I went overboard...

After two years, I came to a very natural shift that made me want to leave the world of airlines and suitcases and settle down to build a home and a family.  For the last ten years, the most important role of my life has been a wife and a mother.  I have lived.  I have danced in my living room and skidded in a mess of vomit and ridden carousels and been the giver and receiver of a million hugs.

We are smiling to hide our fear.

But another shift is coming; I am in the midst of it as I type this.  My children are growing up.  This school year is the first time I've had all of my kids enrolled in school. (The youngest is going to preschool twice a week, so a minor shift for now.)  I feel this pull to embrace a new season of life.  There is so much that excites me, so many passions to sift through.  I want to advocate for children and orphans, for those with special needs and those who have experienced abuse.  I want to be the air that lifts the wings of the women in my life, the way other women have been for me.  I want to do the hard work of healing and unity that brings people together in my city.  I want to keep living.

Windswept at the beach.  Sports Illustrated turned me down.

So that's been the reflection on my mind these past few days.  There is so much risk in life, isn't there?  There's the bad risk, like getting in a car with a drunk driver. (If you want to know why this is bad, ask Princess Diana. Oh wait, you can't.)  There are bad risks, like staying in an abusive relationship, or mismanaging your money so you end up homeless.  But there are good risks too, risks like moving to a new city or taking a job that challenges you.  Risks like saying hello to a stranger or going out to feed the broken and suffering people of the world.

Could not get the boys on board for this one

The thing about these life shifts is that the definition of risk changes with them.  A young woman with no children can travel to far off places and follow her dreams.  A suburban mom can choose to petition her government to adapt the Nordic Model or start ministering to women coming out of addiction.  A woman facing retirement can decide to mentor teen moms and march for racial unity.  Each of these are brave, risky lives.  Each of them follow the advice of Martina McBride, to "love without holding back, to dream with everything they have."

Ladies, I have lived my life.  And I have many, many more years to keep going, to choose life over comfort and safety.  So do you.  I believe that the worst thing we can do with these years is to hide away, to choose easy, to watch the world pass us by.  What kind of life is that?  Courage is not something we are born with, it is something we take hold of and grow the more we use it.  The time for careful planning and deliberation is over.  Get up and live.

On Dreaming

A few years ago, as our Family Village was beginning and we were getting to know our leaders, Joe and Mandy, better, I began to read her blog.  It was a great way to learn more about her and her family, because she writes about funny things her kids say, her relationships, the crazy things she does at home (like throwing water on her husband or wearing underwear on her head), and most frequently, about following Jesus.  I remember one post in particular, in which she said that she and Joe were up late dreaming big dreams.  This post struck me because I realized I've lost the ability to dream.  I don't stay up late talking about my dreams because I don't have any.  When did that stop?  When did limits and shortcomings replace the "We Girls Can Do Anything Like Barbie" mentality that I was raised on?

I think its that I used to dream for me, my imagination running wild with what I would do, where I would go, how I would matter.  And some of those dreams came true, and some didn't, and I learned that I can't do everything.  I will never win American Idol or pilot a plane around the world (although I did fly one for about 15 minutes).  Some of my dreams were cast aside to make room for a new reality, and at this point in my life, I'm happy to be the mom of three beautiful boys instead of US Ambassador to France.  But there were no new dreams, no goals to reach.  I didn't think much of the future beyond what the weather would be like the next day or if we would be able to afford a vacation the next summer.  My life and my focus became so...narrow.  When I heard terms like "vision-casting", I just rolled my eyes and cynically thought, If it hasn't happened before, its not likely to happen now either.  Feeding the hungry, eradicating poverty, changing the world...it sounded like a children's story, with an ending wrapped in a nice little bow.

At this same time, as I was losing faith in myself and life became monotonous, a new hope was also taking root in my heart.  A hope in Someone greater than myself.  A Someone who wasn't limited by time, space, or ability.  And its that same Someone who enables Joe and Mandy to dream big about their mission, the people they lead and the way they live.  And I was reminded this past weekend at the IF: Gathering that following God (the One True God, the God of the Universe, the Alpha and Omega) means living with a purpose, a calling that is from Him.  "Your calling is where your talents and your burden collide," Rebecca Lyons declared.

Last night, I lay in bed with my husband, and we dreamed big dreams.  We talked about our burdens, the people that are never far from our thoughts, the ones we are broken-hearted for.  We talked about actually doing something, acting soon (immediately even) to reach them.  We talked about real things we can do by the end of this month to follow through.  And maybe those small steps, those quiet little Yes's will grow and blossom and become formal programs or big events.  But when we ask God to show us where we fit in His plan, instead of trying to get Him to show up in the ways we think best, it doesn't matter.  We dream, and He turns it into a beautiful reality.