Chasing Kingdoms

 For a moment, I can close my eyes and place myself on the starting line. I imagine that we are moments away from the cacophony of gunfire indicating the start of this race. It is a race for land. But it is not just land that we seek. I can see it and feel it so clearly, that Oklahoma sand blasting against my face, the tension in the air as we all prepare to rush the land, 1200 pounds of fast twitch muscle, electrically charged, ready to blow from the starting line as my horse and I break through the sagebrush, down the gullies, across the red hills, and through the dry creek beds. We weave our way through yucca and cactus, native grass and bois d'arc trees to lay claim to the land that will be my home, and the home for the generations of descendants that come after me. This powerful chestnut and I rocket across the plains, my legs hanging on for dear life as we scream head long into the south wind. I close my eyes for a moment against the wind and trust the feeling that God won't fail me now,  and I whisper the prayer, "Don’t ... slow.... down.." As the land of my dreams comes into view, I slip my right foot out of the stirrup, swing my leg over and anchor for the dismount. I steady myself, and I take the leap, hitting the dusty earth hard, rolling as I’m still falling. I grab the stake and flag from my pocket and slam it into the ground, burying it as far as my hands can push it before hammering it down solid with a rock. She is anchored. My claim is staked. I’ve made my landmark, the hearth for breaking ground and ground breaking. This is my dream. It will be uphill work from here. But this life that has started with a dream and grew into a hope has suddenly landed into reality with a tip of that wooden spear driving home into the Oklahoma earth.

The wind blows relentlessly lately. Top soil has once again taken flight and suspends into the lower atmosphere in attempts to block the sun. It has been discouraging to a point but also a fragment of reality and equal flashbacks of what the 30s did to the great state of Oklahoma. As I listen to the wind howl through the trees and around the edges of sheet metal and anything loose that will rattle I wonder what the decade of historic windstorms did to the minds of the people that called this place home. How did they endure it? How did they stay?

 And today, it is so easy to imagine what it was like back then in this green-broke land. The wild land, the wild air, the wild people who claimed it -they must've been some kind of determined to make it work here, to settle homesteads in a land that didn't want to be held down. Our beloved Oklahoma was too wild to settle, so to stay you must allow the land to stay wild and you must be wild with her.

 And here we are, 130 years post-race, living out the royalties of a dream in a land that is no less wild than she was when we found her. I love that about her. And I wonder, if I had that same opportunity to make that journey would I have had the courage to run that race, to carry my stake from the starting gun shot through the wild hills in order to build my dream from ground zero. Could I have done it?

 The recurring phrase that I am hearing for the week is this; If your dreams are not scaring you, they're not big enough. We've all heard that before. However, I have been hearing this as well; "wouldn't it be insulting to God if we limited our dreams, if we stayed in the safe zone, if we stayed in the guaranteed win. What if we dreamed too small? Wouldn't that be insulting to God?"

God is in every small thing, every miniscule moment, every molecule, every blink of the eye; but He is also the Creator of the big things, the huge dreams, the what-ifs, the "dare I even hope" moments, the monumental shifts that change the world. He is there. He is the creator of the fountains of the deep, the designer of my DNA and blood type and cellular structure. He is the master crafter of tectonic plates, the inventor of the water cycle, and every single star, moon, planet and universe that we haven't even discovered yet.

 And who am I if I only dream the bare minimum? What am I doing insulting the Alpha and Omega with my insignificant, derisory, and insufficient dreams?

I have done that. I have, in fact, possibly insulted God by offering my meager, average dreams in the unconscious hopes that He would honor the fact that I didn't ask for much.  I don’t have to be told. I don't have to wonder. I know I did that.

 And so I set out to redesign my dreams. I grabbed my notebook and set out to push the boundaries of my dreams and log them, committing them into writing. And in those dreams I realized that I had to stake the claim. I had to take a longer, closer look at the "impossibles", the what-ifs, the dreams that feel too far away. I had to capture them and draw them closer to take a look. Why are those dreams and thoughts even there? Are those dreams the invention of my own mind, or are they seeds planted by God himself?

 I think they are both, some of one, some the other. Both, God takes very seriously. Because those are the dreams in my heart. And in order to reach those, to make them real, to have the opportunity to make the run from the starting line, I believe God wants us to place the landmarks out, stakes ready, one leg thrown over the saddle ready to leap. But - how do we do that in a world full of reason, logic, obstacles, and even doubt?

 I read once that we often come to God as beggars, pleading to an unseen existence in an unseen place that we often feel is very far away. We forget that He is here, right here, in - around - among us. Or maybe we find it hard to believe that He is truly that close. He is in the daily tasks of everything I do, everywhere I go. And yet, I often act as though He is far away, only mildly paying attention to me.

Who am I to my parents if I fail to dream big? Have I failed them in the limited way that I think? If my children came to me and told me they didn't care to dream big because I wasn't capable to support them or help them achieve those, then who have I been as a parent? How could I possibly tell my children to settle, to hold back, to dream less, to set their expectations lower because it was too much? I couldn't. Because part of my dream is for my children to receive the abundance of a Godly life, for them to reach so far because they were safe and secure enough to launch those dreams like an arrow into their future. I would never want anything less for them.

So I would tell my children, "Go. Dream it, live it. If that yearning is in your heart, then run for it. And I will help you get there. So run. RUN. Climb that mountain." I would be so honored to do that for my children just as my parents would be so honored to do that for me. And as my Father, why would God not move in extraordinary ways for each of us?

I believe God wants the wild dreams. I believe He wants the impossibles, the breath catching ideas, the what-ifs that put the sparkle of life in our eyes for us. And I believe that He wants to say to us, "Go ahead. Dare to dream big. Ask for more. Run. I'll back you. I'll catch you. Let's do it!" Because the God that designed my children was a God of wonders, of beauty, of laughter and joy and most definitely He is a God of adventure.

I have never felt that God wanted the tamed and subdued version of us. I believe God loves the wild in us. And I believe that we honor Him when we dream the wild dreams. And so I speak it out. I hold my arm out as I reach for Him, I remind Him first and foremost - but moreso, I remind myself, that I am His daughter. And as I do so, the way I approach Him is different. I have never had to remind my own Dad that I was his daughter. I have never had to ask him to protect me, to hug me, to believe in me, to help me as I make a run for the life I have only dreamed of. I have never had to ask him to have my best interest in mind, to carry me when I fall, to pick me up and dust me off. I have never had to ask him for the things that come so natural to him. And I have never had to ask that of God either, even though sometimes I still do. And as I reach out to Him, I ask in confidence to build my dreams higher, bigger and more wise. I ask for the guidance, the wisdom, and adventure and to plant the seeds of the dreams to come.

 But then, I declare it. I decree it. I lay the stakes out in the planning. And I allow those stakes to become the map. I use them as tools to lay the groundwork to take those ideas from my mind into the visual field of reality. And then I begin. Often I find myself telling God that I have no idea where I'm going, how this dream will come to pass, or how the pieces fit together. But He is the master craftsman. And if He allows this dream to grow, He will build it with me as well.

 I don't want to tame this wild land any more than I want to tame what is wild within me. I couldn't if I tried. Because the perseverance it takes to stay here is rewarded in ways that outsiders would never understand. Oklahoma winters are cold - iced-in plains with a relentless wind that freezes on contact. Brutal summers that send the grass into dormancy too early and kill the gardens long before the growing season has ended. Excessive drought that makes the weak give up too soon. Wildfire that will claw through the grassland at record speed and twisters that remind us every spring and fall what wild truly is. And yet, the evening comes, and the dusty, sultry air creates color in the sky that no one has a name for. It's a good place to plant dreams and raise children. And well, we understand the wildness of big dreams. So we gather our resolve, and we steady ourselves like the buried rocks along the creek banks. Because our dreams are bigger than that fury. 

What is your dream? What are the seeds that have been planted inside of your heart? What is that impossible idea that sits on the shelf in the back of your mind? Now ask yourself, is the dream big enough? How do you take that dream from the unseen and the unplanned, to the reality that you're racing toward? 

I remind myself that I am God's daughter. That alone gives me the courage to begin and to dream bigger. I allow myself to visualize the dream without the context of logistical planning, distance, time, capital, or rationality. More than a few dreams have been buried because one decided it was unreachable, or outrageous. What if the Oklahoma Territory land runners decided that the ride was too dangerous, the competition was too great, and the land was too wild? And if they did, where would we be today?

 I am living out the royalties of someone's dream, more than 130 years ago.  Just as those dreams gave way to greatness, our dreams have the capacity to create royalties for the next millennium, if we have the courage to dream and the ambition to run the race. Because our dreams are not just for us. They are for others. And the harvest from that dream will bless a nation, if we are obedient and have the wildness and courage to dream big. If that doesn't give you courage, nothing will.

 Maybe that is what the territory settlers knew. They knew it would be work. It would be the sacrifice of blood, sweat, tears and more. But they also knew the reward would be abundant for generations to come. 

 I think they knew they weren't just chasing dreams.

 They were chasing kingdoms.