Category: Decisions

I’ve got dreams so big they’d scare some people.

Dolly Parton

As long as your dreams don’t involve me, Dolly, go ahead and chase them. Thinking about orchestrating a big dream crushes me the same way as being encouraged to become a world-changer. (See here.)

The dreams-coming-true parts of my life were gifts from God. Many grew from small undertakings, which required the intervention of others.

I can’t follow the cliche of aiming for the stars in hopes of hitting the moon. Why waste my energy if all I want is the moon. I tell myself that the Wright brothers didn’t attempt a rocket in hopes of settling for an airplane.

I enjoy reading biographies of famous artists and lesser-known scientists. They worked hard and followed their passions. They were grateful for their opportunities and rejoiced when their work was successful. Few dreamed big dreams.

Along the way—as in after expensive, time-consuming attempts over twenty-five years—I learned that I can’t dig people out of their messes. My family’s considerable energy and money only provided temporary relief, and the same can be said of others’ attempts to eradicate the same messes.

Why was I so naive? Why didn’t I understand the obvious? Messes don’t just appear. Why did I think they did?

Messes are due to deliberate, day-by-day decisions. If I can’t change someone’s daily decisions, then the mess will reappear, and I can’t fix people—although once upon a time I and others thought I could. (See here)

Do I regret my family’s actions?

No to two. I had to give those relatives opportunities for a new start.

Don’t ask what it will cost you if you help. Ask what it will cost them if you don’t help.

Rev. Josh Diack,

Yes, to one. Our family is still hurting from the experience. I haven’t decided about the others. However, I’m wiser.

Within days of waiting quietly for hours (see here)—and appreciating the experience—I had a chance to practice what I learned about waiting. However, this time, I was in a noisy Walmart instead of a solemn courthouse. This time, I had a to-do list rather than a cleared day. This time, the result of my wait would update a photo album, not help change lives.

An 8×10 photo stapled to its receipt should have been a quick fix except the associate helping me reorder went on an extended break, and then, the printer went into a scheduled 30-minute “cleaning session.”

“Let’s enjoy the wait,” I told my husband who was stuck with me. “Let’s be happy.”

We did, and we were. (He usually is.) We compared the TV screens on display. We observed an associate using his eyeglasses as a Bluetooth device. (Who knew?) We listened to a mother—while uploading photos—preach a fifty-minute sermon to her children. I peeked at a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Can I just tell myself to enjoy waiting? Is it that easy? Can I learn to find the events and people surrounding me interesting, perhaps even entertaining? I guess I’ll see.