They met one hot Arkansas summer. She wore a dress. He wore a uniform. She invited the soldier home after church for dinner. And pie.
Oh, that lemon icebox pie.
They settled down in a small town. Had two girls. She got polio at 29 and made her way through life in a wheelchair. I still remember the tracks in the carpet and how following them meant going into the arms of a woman that smelled like Mary Kay and kindness.
He started a business. It prospered. And then one day, God tapped him on the shoulder with a God-sized dream.
“Start a Christian bookstore,” came the whisper.
So they stepped away from safe, comfortable, middle-class “success” and took a leap of faith not knowing what would happen.
It began with a kiosk in the middle of a mall.
Then a small storefront.
And it grew.
That seed of a dream–watered with sweat, perseverance, tears and prayer became a life-giving thing in their community.
Through the years I watched the ups and downs of business. I learned about dealing with people. I saw how written words could change hearts and lives.
Mostly, I curled up in the back room with stacks of books.
And one day God tapped me on the shoulder with a God-sized dream too, “Become a writer.”
The whisper wouldn’t go away all through Junior High when I wrote poetry in notebooks instead of paying attention in science class. It didn’t go away through the strict youth group years of high school or the rebellious season of college. It didn’t go away through moving, marriage, over seven years of infertility, career transitions and my share of rejection letters. From seed to sprouting my God-sized dream spanned over two decades.
My Grandpa, the one in the story, decided to retire at age 85. Now he calls me on Sundays and asks, “How’s that book going?” And I get to tell him how God has answered prayers uttered before I even came into this world. I get to tell him about all of you, your God-sized dreams, how you’re taking the little words God places in my heart and using them to change the world.
I can hear the smile in his voice when I’m through sharing. “Hang in there,” he says (which is his version of “Keep doing what you’re doing, girl. It matters.”)
Encouragement from the first God-sized dreamer in my life.
A dreamer who’s now 91 years young.
I take his words in and they taste good to my soul.
Like lemon icebox pie.
Last week this was your “do what you can” step for your God-sized dream: Find a God-sized dream story that inspires you and share it with us. You can link up your post below or share in the comments.
So we can all find each other, please include this button in your post. And also take a moment to leave a comment on the post before yours.
For next week, your “do what you can” step for your God-sized dream is this: Write a post that’s titled “A Letter to the God-sized Dreamers” and tell your God-sized dreaming sisters why we need them and their dreams–especially when it’s hard. You’re Made for a God-sized Dream officially releases next week so I would be forever grateful if you would please share about it in your post too. You can get all the info about the book here. Thank you, thank you!