Dreaming of Cereal, Chocolate, and Blonde People

In American society we've got this obsession with dreams. 

Not the sleepy kind, but the what-Ima-gonna-do-one-day kind. 

Having dreams isn't a bad thing at all--unless you're so hung up on them you can't believe that life will ever be good unless you get to have those dreams. 

The funny thing about dreams is that when they play through your head, they are usually a little fuzzy and rosy with soft vignetted edges, kind of like an unrealistic instagram picture.

Oh yeah, unrealistic. 

I've had a few different dreams over the years, a few of which came to pass. I got to be a camp counselor, I went to Africa, I had a boyfriend. Then there are other ones that have changed, flitted out the window, or been stuffed in a closet so they can be taken out later. 

One of those dreams was to teach in a foreign country for a while. 

It was a dream that developed in college, and was just a ghost of a dream, really. 

I'll show you how it went. 

The benevolent Miss Love woke up every morning to the sounds and smells of some lovely European country (the favorite pick was Germany). She had cereal for breakfast and greeted the days refreshed and energetic--just because she was there! Her students were blonde-haired angel babies who were absolutely JOYFUL to see her every day and tried their utmost to please in class--except for the one sullen boy in the back who she quickly won over and who became her class pet. On the weekends Miss Love visited the nearest castles and beaches and by the end of the year had fallen in love with some tall blonde handsome fellow who had enough money to fly her home whenever she wanted. Also, this country had chocolate. Lots of chocolate. Especially dark chocolate.

STOP. REWIND. 

Let's get rid of the fuzzy edges here, please. 

My dream was to teach in a foreign country for a while, even though it scared me enough to pee my pants. Somehow I ended up in China at a boarding school teaching second graders, none of which was part of the dream. The cereal and chocolate and blonde people are pretty scarce, too. 

Yet, I AM living my dream. 

I'm a teacher. 

I teach the cutest children in the world. 

I'm in a foreign country. 

I graduated from college. 

I like being single. 

I'm learning a lot of new things. 

Dreams are cool things to have, but they aren't something to cling to. They can give direction, but left uncontrolled, they can also hinder. 

There are times when I'm discontent here and I think Laura, what else could you possibly want? You're HERE. You're like FREAKING BLONDE MULAN. And I realize that dreams or no dreams, vignetted edges or not, The Father is all that will ever make me content. Going Home to Him is my ultimate dream and I'm SO excited. 

The vignetted edges can't hold a candle to that future certainty.