hopes

Here’s a poem I wrote in my Journal back in 2001, when I was 24, a busy young mom with three little children. It’s all about the dreams in my heart, and my hopes for the future. So many of those hopes and dreams have far exceeded what I could have ever imagined.

Tomorrow I want to paint my walls with hills and trees, butterflies and clouds, and sing the songs from “The Sound of Music”. Tomorrow I want to ignore the laundry and play outside with my toddlers. I want to be close to creation. I want to feel the wind and the rain and watch the sky.

Tomorrow I want to wake up in my husband’s arms, and listen as he prays for our family. And I really want to live my life like I was designed to live it. I want music, purity, sunlight and the laughter of children. I want to know the one who made me, yes, I want to make God smile.

Tomorrow I want to bring fresh milk from the barn, bring fresh flowers to the table, and let my little son feel the joy of gathering a basket of fresh eggs. I want to look out the window and watch the neighbor’s horses run. I want to share my two-year-old’s amazement as we examine the beans spouting in a jar on the windowsill. I want to build Lego towers, block towers, and couch pillow towers… again and again and again. I want to watch with wonder as my baby girl falls asleep to Mozart.

Tomorrow I want to drink a cup of loose leaf tea, and share a cup with a friend as we talk about the treasures we found at garage sales.

I want to fill my house with used books and take time to read them. I want to learn all about the way my great grandmothers lived, and teach those skills to others. I want to make things I couldn’t buy, and make other things anyway. I want to make my home an expression of creativity, discovery and faith and I want my heart to be an expression of Jesus.

Tomorrow I want to listen to the hearts of my children and be the one who nurtures them from sunrise and sunset and all through the night. I want to giggle with my daughters and read about tractors with my son. I want to smile when people tell me that I must have my hands full, smile, knowing that my hands are full of blessings.

Tomorrow I want my husband to come home to joy, to peace and to unconditional love. I want to kiss him and rub his back if he’s achy. I want him to enjoy a meal seasoned with herbs from our garden. I want to sit on the porch swing with him and watch the sun set and seasons change. I want to listen as he talks about his computer business and all the new people he meets, then talk about making plans to go to Austria again, or drive down the west coast.

Tomorrow I want to say yes to the things that matter most, and say no to the things that stand in the way of peace. I want simplicity. I want to live by faith. I want my neighbors to see a candle burning in the window, but never the blue glow of a television set. I want to be thankful and content with what I have and when I have more than what I need, I want to give. I want to give even when I must sacrifice.

Tomorrow evening I want to put on my shoes and jacket and go out to the barn. I want to pass the chicken coop and peek in at the hens as they huddle close, dozing on their roost. I want to sing quietly as I milk my goat by lantern light, then take a little time just to look up at the stars, and say a few words to the one who made them.

Tomorrow night I want to fall asleep in a room with wood floors and soft yellow walls as my husband reads the bible to me. I want to dream big dreams, and then make them come true… in my own back yard.