My childhood friend, Mlle. Michael, had a post today asking her readers to brag about themselves and share their dreams. I can fairly easily create a list of areas where I excel, both silly and significant. But dreams? I haven't thought about that in quite awhile.
I have goals, which I think are different. We plan to pay off our mortgage in the next seven years. I homeschool Peter and will do the same with Anne when she is older. I'm working to lose these last five pounds of pregnancy weight in the next few weeks. I intend to teach Sunday School for many years to come, unless God nudges me away. These are good goals, very practical and attainable. They are not dreams.
When I contemplated dreams, first I drew a complete blank. I have a wonderful family, I've traveled, I wrote a book that people actually paid money to own. I'm married to the love of my life. What dreams do I really have? I realized my dreams are for my children.
I dream of them discovering their passions, finding their vocations, having a powerful connection with God. I dream of their delight in nature, their joy in solid friendships. I dream of an ever-maturing relationship with each of them.
These are good, beautiful dreams. They reflect how completely my vocation as a mother has filled me. I don't see a lack because I don't have dreams for myself... should I? I wonder if somewhere down the road I will wish I had done "more" with my life, although I can't see that happening. I tend to think that if I am enjoying the present, I won't regret it in the future.
If you're a more experienced mother, I'd enjoy reading your thoughts on this!