Two yesterday, stuffed in the mailbox along with a couple straggling Christmas cards.
I sat down on the couch and wanted to take a long look. I was ready to pull out a black Sharpie and circle my favorites. They're my grown-up Sears wishbook, those seed catalogs. Barbie and Skipper replaced by heirloom purple pepper seeds. Who woulda thought?
I haven't cracked them open yet. I probably won't. We're going to be gone all summer, and when that decision was made, another one fell behind in rank. We won't be growing a garden in 2012.
Oh, we are going some wonderful places this summer. The home of my dear, dear sister. Europe. Our little mountain town that we count a second home. For a soul smitten with wanderlust, it' s a dream summer.
Not all dreams can be lived at once.
The garden dream is a little sacrifice. Just some vegetables and flowers. In the scheme of life, not a big deal.
Yet what about the bigger dreams? The ones God planted in the soft, broken-up soil of my early 20s? The dreams cried and prayed out from the gross carpet of a small dorm room?
It is still true: not all dreams can be lived at once.
Economists would call it opportunity cost. I call it as Psalm 16 does: "Lord, you have ordained me my portion and my cup."
The garden waits.
The dreams wait.
But, look, here is today, and He is the God of today. This is not lesser life than holding the sick in India. This is not lesser life than being a momma. This is not lesser life. This is the apportioned cup...the overflowing cup.
The unfulfilled desires? Are they from Him? Then they will last. God's dreams don't come with an expiration date. They don't have a shelf-life.
Today I live something as eternal as it gets. It's a different dream than I thought, and I'm living it.