Dreams and mornings

Children, courage, Faith, family, Motherhood, Prayer, rest, Vulnerability, wonder

Colt and I sat for a bit this morning as the darkness lingered in the rain.  His usual sauntering towards the door could wait I suppose, as if he knew.


Some thoughts, memories, random comments spoken yesterday found their way out last night.

Out from the places in my mind that apparently were unsatisfied with the time I devoted to pondering.

That’s where dreams come from, I’ve decided, good, bad, scary or beautifully outlandish.

They’re just bits of thoughts, really.

Not seen through to the end, tied up neatly, put away.

I dream quite grandly.  I notice explicitly, don’t just discard my thoughts, that I put them aside for later.

This morning, I unraveled the night’s inventory of yesterday’s profound incompleteness of thoughts.

And, the big dog rested his head on the edge of his bed, heaved a satisfied sigh and waited there.


I notice most everything, ponder things longer than most.

It’s a gift and a burden. A gift, because I care deeply.

A burden because my mind sometimes hoards  what should be let go, the irrelevant and the irrational.

Holds onto a thought, a conversation and then goes to bed with

“What if?

So, I rose early on my day off.  Saw my daughter who went to bed exhausted and achy as bright as sunshine and crisp as blue sky, heading out into rainy darkness to bless little  4-year olds.

Thankful she was not sick and I smiled at the thought of bride.

Just a little blip of a bad and worrisome dream….not reality,

Yay for a pretty wedding in less than three months!

And my son was asleep, his last day at home. He had not left with his guitar on his back without saying goodbye.

Another dream, not so much a “blip”.

More like a marathon on Netflix, an engrossing drama, looking everywhere for something, all vivid characters and colors.

Dreams that make you thrilled for morning.

Mornings mean clarity and gratitude.

Best things about it to me along with coffee and Bible.

Big dog patiently waiting as I scribble, read, thank.

Until we begin the day, noticing.


Noticing all day, all the goods, turning the not goods into “even ifs”.

And forgetting about the “what ifs” that interrupt the night.

3 thoughts on “Dreams and mornings

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