I woke up to the sound of my 3rd alarm the other morning before work (I have a tendency to snooze my first couple of alarms this summer...) with a vision that I haven't had lately. Actually, it's been quite some time. Years, even. Grandma Jenny was well. Really really well. And the basis of the dream was the Grandma had been cured; MS had left her old, frail, and weak body and she had become rejuvenated. More than her body though, she was talking. Her voice was that strong, nasaly sound that I remember, filled with a mix of coffee, diet coke, and the smell of her bold pink lipstick. Her hair was that golden blonde like before and her face was glowing with light. She was talking and loudly proclaiming that she was no longer sick. She was free.
I suppose I'm used to telling my dreams, over analyzing them, and using my somewhat hastily acquired and likely marginal dream interpretation skills from Hendrix dream group in order to figure out what characters, stories, and thoughts pass through my mind at night.
I can't say for certain what this dream meant. I have ideas, I have theories, but really, I think I just like to leave it at this:
I'm at peace with where grandma is right now. I know she's hurting, she's probably suffering, and I can't imagine the turmoil she has been through emotionally and physically as her body has fell way behind her mind, heart, and soul. I hate it. Of course. But, this summer I really feel like I have made peace with my grandmother dying. She is, after all. Yet, I had this dream where she was full of life, energy, and happiness. It's what I hope for her. It's what I hope for everyone; but that feeling of life is something I hope especially for the old, the sick, the marginalized, the pained, the forgotten, and I hope that they feel that way someday soon. Someday the pain will be all gone, and I have finally admitted (and embraced) this feeling of hope for grandma. I can't wait for that day to come for her.
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
FOOTBALL
Confession: When I was a younger girl I had a secret fantasy.
No, not that kind of fantasy.
And no, it didn't involve pink.
It had nothing to do with being an actress (but, that was later in my youth, of course).
It was the furthest away it could be from becoming Miss America.
In fact, most girls entering their teenage years might have dreams of seeing the world, or maybe having the hottest boyfriend in school, or even making straight A's just to impress the teachers.
I, of course, was not that typical girl.
Sure, I liked pink. But I liked green better.
I liked ribbons. But I liked my hair back in a messy ponytail better.
And I liked dollhouses. But I liked grass stains better.
I liked boys. But they still had cooties.
And yes, I liked gymnastics, and even the girls soccer team that I was on.
But I liked something else better.
As far as I was concerned, I was going to play football. And nobody was going to stop me.
And yet, I must have known. I must have known the social norms about that sort of thing. A girl? Playing FOOTBALL? I never really mentioned this little plan of mine to either of my parents. I thought they would think I was crazy. And while me being crazy is certainly negotiable, I didn't think this plan was completely out of reach. After all, the Broncos had just won back to back Superbowls. They would be needing some serious talent to continue this run. Maybe a girl could be the answer? Maybe, I, Heather Newell, could play for the Denver Broncos.
So, I coerced Lance to play football with me in any spare moment. Like little kids immersed into their own little fantasy world, a world that only kids could create, we played. We designed secret plays. I would be the quarterback, Lance the receiver, and on our street, on the hot steaming pavement in late summer evenings, magic would happen. At least it would feel that way. When we were feeling particularly reckless, we would wait for our parents to go to sleep and then would play the "sacking game" on the couch. I would pretend to get the ball, and then proceed to try and avoid Lance, who would try to tackle me on the couch. It sounds silly. And looking back, it was. But I was taking this thing pretty seriously.
I remember when I realized this dream of mine, this fantasy was an impossibility. Normally, I don't believe in impossibilities, but ultimately playing football, for me, was not in my cards. I remember going to Lance's first pee-wee football game. The boys were good. Real good. And I thought about myself in one of those stinky, nasty uniforms. I thought about what it would like to be tackled, really tackled, by a boy. And somewhere, at somepoint between the touchdowns, half time snacks, and cheer, after the game I recognized that I just quite simply couldn't play football. And I was sad. I was. But I was okay. Because I knew I could focus my energies and dreams elsewhere.
I think my dream of playing football evolved into me becoming a hard core fan of football. After I started playing competitive soccer I found a niche, and football became more of a hobby instead. I collected every Bronco sports card I could find, and every year that we went to Broncos training camp, I would study the roster, and I would remember the players, their stats, and their contributions to the team. I could watch football on lazy Sunday afternoons, no problem. I would do my homework during commercials, and try to stay focused as my family and I always had serious debates about the state of the Broncos.
I think I love football because it's a perfect combination of physical competition, as well as strategy. I like trying to understand the plays. I like the absolute talent that football breeds; some of the players are just incredible. But I like football, most of all, because even though the winner changes, crazy plays happen, different players emerge as great, and each play leads to the unknown, it also stays the same. I find the same joy in eating a hamburger while watching the game. I find joy just watching the game play out, trying to decipher what could happen next.
And I like being a fan.
I think being a fan is fun. It creates community, unity, and cohesiveness. And, I like that. I like wearing Orange and Blue, and telling people that God is a Bronco fan simply because when the sun sets, blues and oranges often compose much of the color palette. Why else would God use those colors ; ) ?
And, many people think I'm crazy. That I'm crazy Bronco fanatic.
And I wouldn't say that. Already, I have embraced the Jets due to the influence of my northern friends, and ultimately I recognize that really, football is just a game. Like field hockey, like soccer, it is just a game.
But I keep watching because it's fun.
And I do still throw the pigskin around. These days, I have different dreams and goals, but when I throw that ball I remember what it felt like when I was a little girl and I wanted to play in the NFL. It's a good reminder of how strong dreams are, and that even if your dreams do not come true, everything happens just how it is supposed to.
No, not that kind of fantasy.
And no, it didn't involve pink.
It had nothing to do with being an actress (but, that was later in my youth, of course).
It was the furthest away it could be from becoming Miss America.
In fact, most girls entering their teenage years might have dreams of seeing the world, or maybe having the hottest boyfriend in school, or even making straight A's just to impress the teachers.
I, of course, was not that typical girl.
Sure, I liked pink. But I liked green better.
I liked ribbons. But I liked my hair back in a messy ponytail better.
And I liked dollhouses. But I liked grass stains better.
I liked boys. But they still had cooties.
And yes, I liked gymnastics, and even the girls soccer team that I was on.
But I liked something else better.
As far as I was concerned, I was going to play football. And nobody was going to stop me.
And yet, I must have known. I must have known the social norms about that sort of thing. A girl? Playing FOOTBALL? I never really mentioned this little plan of mine to either of my parents. I thought they would think I was crazy. And while me being crazy is certainly negotiable, I didn't think this plan was completely out of reach. After all, the Broncos had just won back to back Superbowls. They would be needing some serious talent to continue this run. Maybe a girl could be the answer? Maybe, I, Heather Newell, could play for the Denver Broncos.
So, I coerced Lance to play football with me in any spare moment. Like little kids immersed into their own little fantasy world, a world that only kids could create, we played. We designed secret plays. I would be the quarterback, Lance the receiver, and on our street, on the hot steaming pavement in late summer evenings, magic would happen. At least it would feel that way. When we were feeling particularly reckless, we would wait for our parents to go to sleep and then would play the "sacking game" on the couch. I would pretend to get the ball, and then proceed to try and avoid Lance, who would try to tackle me on the couch. It sounds silly. And looking back, it was. But I was taking this thing pretty seriously.
I remember when I realized this dream of mine, this fantasy was an impossibility. Normally, I don't believe in impossibilities, but ultimately playing football, for me, was not in my cards. I remember going to Lance's first pee-wee football game. The boys were good. Real good. And I thought about myself in one of those stinky, nasty uniforms. I thought about what it would like to be tackled, really tackled, by a boy. And somewhere, at somepoint between the touchdowns, half time snacks, and cheer, after the game I recognized that I just quite simply couldn't play football. And I was sad. I was. But I was okay. Because I knew I could focus my energies and dreams elsewhere.
I think my dream of playing football evolved into me becoming a hard core fan of football. After I started playing competitive soccer I found a niche, and football became more of a hobby instead. I collected every Bronco sports card I could find, and every year that we went to Broncos training camp, I would study the roster, and I would remember the players, their stats, and their contributions to the team. I could watch football on lazy Sunday afternoons, no problem. I would do my homework during commercials, and try to stay focused as my family and I always had serious debates about the state of the Broncos.
I think I love football because it's a perfect combination of physical competition, as well as strategy. I like trying to understand the plays. I like the absolute talent that football breeds; some of the players are just incredible. But I like football, most of all, because even though the winner changes, crazy plays happen, different players emerge as great, and each play leads to the unknown, it also stays the same. I find the same joy in eating a hamburger while watching the game. I find joy just watching the game play out, trying to decipher what could happen next.
And I like being a fan.
I think being a fan is fun. It creates community, unity, and cohesiveness. And, I like that. I like wearing Orange and Blue, and telling people that God is a Bronco fan simply because when the sun sets, blues and oranges often compose much of the color palette. Why else would God use those colors ; ) ?
And, many people think I'm crazy. That I'm crazy Bronco fanatic.
And I wouldn't say that. Already, I have embraced the Jets due to the influence of my northern friends, and ultimately I recognize that really, football is just a game. Like field hockey, like soccer, it is just a game.
But I keep watching because it's fun.
And I do still throw the pigskin around. These days, I have different dreams and goals, but when I throw that ball I remember what it felt like when I was a little girl and I wanted to play in the NFL. It's a good reminder of how strong dreams are, and that even if your dreams do not come true, everything happens just how it is supposed to.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Glimpses of Change
I watched the Bucket List the other day. Okay, that is a lie; I watched it twice in two days. I watched it late one Saturday night after getting home from Audra's house. On my laptop, alone in my room. Naturally, I liked the movie and again watched it the next day. After a whirlwind day of getting baptized, brunch with my family, and golf with my dad, it felt like the perfect thing to watch. It truly is a wonderful movie, and there is one idea, one quote that is continually sticking out in my mind:

You measure yourself by the people who measure themselves by you.
The face that Morgan Freeman said this made it sound even more awe-inspiring and omniscient, but disecting this statement down to the bear bones it utterly sensational. It's moving and it is downright powerful. I have had this problem in previous years of measuring myself by things. My accomplishments, my qualities..the list goes on. It wasn't until that my spiritual growth was kicked into high gear that I realized that living for myself doesn't work. Living to achieve great milestones in life doesn't work. The only thing I can really do is to live for Him. I am of course, speaking of the glorious God, the Alpha and the Omega, the Maker. I didn't know what that meant a few years ago. Heck, about 5 years ago I didn't know the heck God even was! Yet, as long as my life is inwardly and outwardly dedicated to Him I can make a difference in other lives for the better. People can be changed from other people in a holy and spiritual way--my friends, it is called the Holy Spirit. I don't have to meddle in people's problems. I don't have to worry sick about what direction there life is going in. I can give THAT to God, and can show them love through the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit gives me the right words, brings me to the right places, and acts through me on God's behalf. Holy moly that is incredible.
I want to make my own Bucket List. What would I put on it though? I have been blessed with so much already, but I know there is SO much more for me to see and experience. I can think of a few things:
1) Go skydiving. Cliche? Yes. But hello, it looks utterly fantastic.
2) Have traveled to every state in America.
3) Go on a Safari.
4) See Israel!!!
5) Swim underneath a waterfall.
6) Be a mother.
7) Fall in love.
Those are only glimpses in what I want to experience with life. Glimpses, I tell you.
Like I said, before I watched the movie I was baptized. I tried putting into words what that experience was like in my journal, but you would have to see the smile streched across my face. You would have to feel the glow in my heart, and understand the passion I feel for the almighty God. I can't describe it. But, I will say that getting baptized at all of 19 years old was hands down was incredible. As I gazed upon the congregation and shared my story of coming to Christ I looked up at my Pastor with anxious eyes. He took my hand and slowly, but majestically dipped me into the water. In a matter of seconds I was soaked and above water again, but for that milisecond, for that brief glimpse everything was perfect. I felt that strong and comforting hands of God upon me. I felt so..liberated. So free. It wasn't as if the water provided salvation. Oh no. I got baptized because I wanted to outwardly express an inner devotion. I am resolutley, completely devoted to God. I wanted to live for HIM. And I knew that to continue to grow and discover on my journey with God, I would need to wash away the old me. The old desires. The old tendencies. Everything. It's like a Super Walmart sale--"Everything Must Go!". Ha, but seriously. In order for me to unquestionably embrace the beauty of God, by his grace, I had to let go of everything holding me back. Now, it is gone. I have changed. Like I was when I first accepted Christ, I am becoming new. After all, Revelation 21:5 says, "Behold, I make all things new." Everyday, every fleeting moment I am growing more and more with my relationship with God. GLORY.

Fittingly, today I had one of the best days this summer. It wasn't that it was filled with events or monumental occurences. Honestly, it was just pure bliss. To be in His presence, and know this, and to carry it everywhere with me was so humbling. From holding little kids at the Gathering Place, to coaching moody yet hilarious teen girls field hockey, to doing silly workouts at the gym and laughing hysterically with Hardy---it was all so joyous. I have laughed so much today. There is so much peace in my heart. Thank you God. Thank you.
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