My husband's sleepwalking adventures aren't what they used to be, for which I am thankful. He used to, quite regularly, join forces with G.I. Joe and rescue me from bad guys. Or he'd get busy turning lights on-and-off around the house. I even caught him in the hallway once, holding our firstborn baby upside down.
But he's been pretty tame lately. However, a few nights ago he sat straight up in bed and said, "There it is! It moved again!" And I'm all, "You're just dreaming." But he didn't believe me. He never believes me. So he continued, "You shh! Now listen... wait for it... (and then I repositioned my arm)... see, it just moved again!" Good grief, he was talking about my arm.
With that being said, I'm glad there are different types of dreams. Like real-life dreams. I wanna be a billionaire kind of dreams. I have them. You have them. And I'd like to say my dreams are always reaching for the stars or consist of goodwill for mankind. But I was reminded, yet again, how often my thoughts drift elsewhere.
It happened during worship in church last weekend. This is nothing new. Whether my singing is interrupted by the realization my thighs are touching in my new jeans - or wondering if the worship team will be passing out free CDs - I'm no stranger to having me-focused thoughts in church settings.
On this day, the worship leader asked everyone, "What dreams do you guys have? What is that one seemingly impossible thing you're believing God for?" And then she challenged each of us to hold out our hand and fill it with our dream. And when we get to the "nothing is impossible with God" part of the song, we open our hands and release that impossible thing.
I thought, "Yes, I'm doing this!" So while people were busy putting their dreams of good health and new jobs and restored relationships into their open hands, I put in my Nobel Peace Prize-winning dream of being a writer for Trader Joe's Fearless Flyer, a witty and quaint newsletter that provides info about the store's seasonal products.*
I'm serious. I think the writers over at corporate could be my best friends. As for the most recent Fearless Flyer - the Thanksgiving edition - it's a work of genius, for the Pull-Apart Dinner Rolls supposedly "cradle butter like none other." And the Cranberry Walnut Bread is "teeth-tuggingly tasty." They also tell me the Pecan Pie Ice Cream is so good it's "ridiculous." And not only that, but the Turkey Pot Pie is "belly-warming and hug-provoking."
Come on now, who uses the word "belly" when trying to sell a food product? Trader Joe's does. And how cool it'd be to one day brainstorm with TJ's best-of-the-best writers on how to whimsically describe their latest "This fruit walks into a bar..." cereal bar flavor - and to just let my words pour from my penny pencil with feverish fluidity.**
That's a good dream to have, right? Sure it's off-the-beaten-path, but why not trust God with it? After all, he does say that in everything, with thanksgiving, let our requests be made known to him. And since he didn't specify the type of request, Trader Joe's it is.
So this Thanksgiving, as I proudly wear the "More Whipped Cream, Please" sticker I got from a Trader Joe's cashier, my other dream is for everyone to cheesily and unashamedly thank God for all things - and in all things - and to share your dreams with him. (And the more absurd, the better.)
*Not to worry, Alabama friends. My dream for you is to get a Trader Joe's soon.
**Yes, I'm getting my "A Christmas Story" on as I prep for the holiday season.