Earlier this week, I posed the question on Facebook:
If you were to receive a ridiculous amount of money with no strings attached, what would you do?
Sitting outside at the turquoise table, reading the responses made me smile. Some of the answers were fun and silly – I mean it’s Facebook, right. Most of the people who responded shared a passion and, whether or not they intended, a big God dream.
I have lots of big God dreams. One of them involves sharing more with you about the crazy things only God could do when a girl puts a turquoise table in her front yard. That particular big God dream is meant to be told another day.
As I sit staring across the top of my computer screen I see a beautiful, vacant lot. It’s not really vacant, it’s a double lot that belongs to our neighbors, just caddy corner from us. Years ago, the family used it for glorious gardens. Families age and seasons change and since we’ve lived here, it’s been tended less and less. The land is not unruly or unsightly, just dormant with potential.
I call this lot my secret garden.
For years I’ve dreamed of community garden. Some days I can see the rows of tender baby lettuce and bright green onion shoots so clearly I have half a mind to water my dream. The vision continues with long wooden tables filled with neighbors celebrating the fruit of their labor under twinkle lights on an endless summer evening. Conversation flows, peals of laughter echo throughout the ‘hood. Heirloom tomatoes are sliced and passed from hand to hand on a chipped platter drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with garden herbs. Someone thought to bake bread. Another sliced lemons for the jugs of water needed to wet whistles from so much talking. Neighbors who live behind closed garage doors emerge and come alive in the garden. Our diversities, preferences, religions, beliefs, politics are not hindrances but cause for celebration when we gather at the table in the garden.
The chain linked fence would be open. Replaced with an old iron gate flanked by benches filled with baskets for gathering organic produce, a bicycle or two with woven baskets to carry the goods to and fro from expectant kitchens. Garden work is hard. But, many hands make light work.
I’ve shared my dream with various neighbors and friends over the years. At this point there are more obstacles than answers. But, the way I figure it, if God can move mountains with a speck of faith the size of a mustard seed, what’s a few obstacles? Plus, I happen to know God’s rather fond of gardens.
Faith is not believing God will, but that God can.
A girl can dream, can’t she?
Pretty please won’t you share one of your big God dreams?