THE FUTURE & THE FIELDS

If I could sit down with the future over a cup of tea and ask why, I would love to. I am sure the future would drink an earl grey tea and I would drink a cozy peppermint.  I would listen as the future explained in full detail why I need to do this and why now. I would carefully write it all down in between sips and glances at the flickering flames in the fireplace. Safe and cozy where I could ask all the questions I wanted to. And then when people asked me why- Why am I moving to San Diego? How long? I could answer them confidently. One hundred percent sure of the truth the future had told me. But, I don’t know the future like that. We don’t sit down over cups of tea and chat about what is planned. The future has never been a dear friend of mine, that is not how I have ever met it- fully confident, with a firm handshake.

Rather I have known the future as one knows a garden- in different seasons it brings different things. Different things- but it blooms nonetheless. I was scared to move across the country- what if there weren’t blooming flowers there? What if it is all a mistake and the best of my life is where I am? Where I was? You see, I don’t know the future as a friend, but I do know the one cultivating these seasons. The one planting these seasons, producing my future- I know his name. Since He is my friend, the certain future doesn’t have to be.

We don’t watch the flowers fade for fear that they will never bloom again, because we know another season is coming. It always is and it always has. Where something passes, something new blooms. So why do we fear the passing time and not expect goodness, like we do with nature? It's only natural, right? Sometimes I fear the passing seasons, but then God reminds me- there are fields of blooming flowers out there. Goodness to be expected to come! Seasons that can’t grow here, that grow there. Vines that thrive now that won’t thrive then.

You see, I don’t know the future but I know this incredible gardener. He seems to bring out the best in me in absolutely every season. It seems you can bloom wild flowers in the driest winters, if you cultivate them just so.  In fact, even deserts can be a wilderness of abundance.

 This is a season like no other, a season with no restraints and no plans. And this? This is my chance. My chance to do something that some strive a lifetime for, something that few ever find or take the risk of doing. This is my chance to laugh without fear of the future, though it be a stranger to me. My ability to fear is just as big as my ability to dream, but the freedom I hold extends far beyond any fear I might entertain. It all comes down to a choice. Do I walk in that freedom? Or do I walk in those fears? I am a risk taker, I always have been and I probably always will be. There’s a thrill in it all that brings my soul alive, something about taking a chance. Something about doing what doesn’t make sense. Something like flying to London to walk into the world’s top publishing company, uninvited. Something like calling Dr. Seuss’ house, unexpected. Or submitting a proposal to a publishing company in New York via THE director, without acceptance. Something in me believes this is living- to the fullest. It wasn’t about the success or whether I was accepted or even invited. It is about boundless means, endless freedom. The risks aren’t to prove any ability, they are to walk in freedom unhindered by any fear that stands in our way. Whatever invitation we never received, every place we were never formally invited. Every phone call we were never expected to make.

Something like- moving across the country without a plan simply because God invited me to. This chance unlike so many came with an invitation, that I have accepted. What’s to come? How long?! That is unknown. I know I have a lot of dreams, a lot of stories swirling within me waiting to be told. I wonder which ones this season will bring? There are so many uncertainties, but I am certain of this- the most abundant place I have ever been is where God always is. And that’s usually where the fields of blooming flowers are, where I find myself not safely with a cup of tea by a fireplace, but with a field full of chances and risks- and I am willing to take them all.

I am willing to uproot my entire life, pack it into a car and drive over 2,000 miles for nothing more than blooming flowers. I hope you are willing to take the same risk, for whatever it entails, to wherever the fields of blooming flowers take you.