A dream come true. For those of us who grew up in the U.S., we all began studying a second language by 7th grade. For me, that was French. And ever since we sang the French version of "Singing in the Fain" during French class, I've wanted to go to France. Now why that song made me want to go to France, I have no idea. But, it did. Perhaps it was the actions that went along with the song. :) Today, my mom and I are getting on a plane bound for London! It's been almost 10 years since we were there last. The last time we were there was part of our family vacation of tracing our roots. We went to Sweden to visit some of my dad's cousins who still live there (his grandpa came to Minnesota and started a farm in the Alexandria area, and his grandpa's brother stayed home in Sweden). Then it was off to the UK to visit Sterling, Scotland, where my mom's grandma was from. And while in the UK, we stopped in London as well.
So, we are off again to return to London. This time to attend Hillsong's Colour Conference with thousands of other women at Wembley Arena. AND to travel to France with some dear friends of ours! Finally, after dreaming of going to France for the past 20 years, I will get to go. :)
Dreams are a funny thing. It wasn't until a trip to France was an option during this trip to London, that I remembered that I'd wanted to go to France since I was 12. I had just kind of forgotten about it and hadn't done anything to pursue it. Then suddenly, a door opened up and I was able to go, just like that. :)
I remember when I was freshman in college and I had come to the place where I was able to forgive my biological father and finally love him after a life-time of hating him (he was an angry drunk and an absent father). I remember wanting to visit him before he died, for by then, he was homeless and living on the streets of Houston, TX (somehow I just knew he would die young). A couple of years went by and I had forgotten about this dream. Then, one night when I got a call from my mom telling me he was in the hospital and not doing well. The next day, I was sitting at his bedside telling him all the things I'd dreamed of being able to say to him. He passed away later that week, but not before my dream came true.
I wonder what other dreams I have forgotten about? I'm sure there will be more that will come to pass without me having to seemingly do anything about them. But what if I was more intentional about pursuing my dreams? What if instead of just letting them be a thought that comes and goes, I wrote more of them down, and prayed about them, and started doing something about them? What if dreaming became more of a part of my daily thinking? What if there's more to life than just waiting for it to happen to us? Here's to more dreaming! And more dreams coming true! See you the other side of France! :)