The Failure Room

While exploring mindscapes, I have found that there is a home where the thoughts, emotions, hopes and dreams of a person are kept.  In these homes can be many rooms, or few, depending on the person.  Some are public, some are private.  Some are easily visible, while others are hidden. 

Sometimes the houses are nearly empty, like my brothers, which has a small kitchen and a hammock inside, while there is a fishing boat tied up outside.  Others are filled with  things -- often things that don't even belong to the person who owns the home!  Thing that others think they should have or care about.  These things can be objects, ideas or ideals.

Until last night, I had never been in my house.  I have seen it from the outside, but could only make guess based on the curtained windows and the cozy brick exterior, what it might be like inside.  I felt, that it must be in disarray, for I never saw anyone pass by one of the many windows.

I can't verify if this is true or not, at this moment, for I only saw two rooms in the house last night.  My 'To-Do' room and a room that was labeled 'The Failure Room'.

I had asked my sister to help me, through prayer, to get into the 'To-Do' room, and see if there was some way of organizing it so that I could manage my time better.  That is another story, to be told at another time.  However, it was the contents of that room that led me to 'The Failure Room'. 

In the 'To-Do' room, I found many hopes and dreams that others had for me.  Things that they saw in me, that they were sure I could do and be good at.  There were things from my dad, concerning my ability to design and work with materials in a 3-D manner.  There were things from my teachers at college, concerning my kind, gentle disposition, and how I was able to help others along, even correcting the way-ward, without crushing the spirit.  There were things from my mom, my siblings, friends from past and present.  There were things from those I went to high school with, and those who had only observed me.

These things seemed positive, yet I could tell that they did not belong in my 'To-Do' room, as they were serving to pull me in many different directions.  I asked the Lord God what to do with them.  I didn't want to throw them out, but keeping them there was not an option. 

He said, "Let's put them all in a scrap book for you,"  and I saw them gather from nooks and crannies all around the room into a lovely yellow scrapbook that was labeled "Hopes and Dreams:  What I See in You."  Then He said, "And now, let's put this in your failure room."

Immediately, I was climbing a ladder that pulled down from the ceiling of some other room.  It led into the attic space of a tower.  The room was small, cramped and dark.  There were a few burnt candles on the floor and tissues.  Other than that, it was empty.  I looked around the room, and knew, that in some manner, I had spent much time in that tiny space.

The Lord placed the book in 'The Failure Room', where it would be seen as one topped the stairs.  As the book lay there, it began to glow and light began to emit from its pages.  The light filled the room and caused it to grow.  Soon the it had doubled in size.  The cobwebs were gone, and there were small narrow windows in the space between the roof and the floor.  The ceiling was no longer rough lumber, but appeared to have been plastered over.  The flooring was no long scraps of old ply-wood, but carpet, and the candlesticks were gone, replaced by a bright chandelier, handing from the peak.  The space was no longer dark and cramped, but bright and beautiful.

And I knew, that in the future, when I fail, and instinct sends me running to my 'Failure Room', I will be surrounded by the possitive things that others have seen in me, and I will be inspired.

Other Me's

Last night my sister and I were talking about dreams and things we knew, with out knowing how we knew them.  Some say it is intuition, and maybe that plays a part, but it is not all.  There are times, when I look at my hands doing a job, and know that it is not the regular me at work.  There are times when I hear someone speak of me, and know exactly what they are talking about, because I have seen it too, but it is not the me I know. 

I remember my husband, before we were even dating, telling me that I was the most beautiful girl he had ever met and that I deserved better than him.  In my mind's eye, I could see the girl he was talking about.  She was pretty.  She was confident and sure.  She was capable of most anything.  I knew what he was talking about, and though I looked very much like her, it was not the me I knew. 

I remember working in the kitchen at college, handling large quantities of food, with easy.  I would be up every morning at 4 am to clean bathrooms in my dormitory, then get dressed for the day, and head to the kitchen.  I was not in charge of the menu, but could cook most anything--scrambled eggs were the only thing I hated--gooey eggs, dripping from the shells, dozens of them being cracked for a single meal.  Now, I am not a morning person, and I don't like to cook... especially breakfast, but I remember doing it with deftness and ease.  Was that really me, or was it someone who just looked like me?

We began on this topic because a young friend of ours has visited me in dream on several occasions with the message that he knew what to do about some situations in his life.  Situations that are slowly killing him.  In the dreams he was confident and outgoing.  In real life, he is a recluse.  In the dream, he had answers.  In real life, he is hoping to make it.  Somewhere, another part of him or another one of him has overcome and is free.

Is there more than one of you?

In the book Timeline, by Micheal Crichton, the theory of many worlds is briefly laid out.  I have researched it briefly, reading some of the founding documents.  It is a very interesting theory, that, as I understand it, states that every moment the world is splintering off into many more worlds.  That in these other worlds, you make different choices.  Others make different choices, and life goes on, ever splintering out, creating new and different worlds.  There are some worlds that are very similar to our own and some that are vastly different, for every decision that could be made has been made, and the effects are lived out in these other worlds.  From what I have read, this theory has been proven, in some way relating to quantum physics, and the fact that there is a pattern of interference, even when no interference is present.  I really don't understand it, and don't know how it could possibly be that there are many Me's, but what if it is so?  And what if those worlds are so close that sometimes you see yourself through the eyes of others, but not the you you know?  What if some of the impossible ideas that come to you, the ones that sound so familiar and feel so strange, are you, calling yourself to live life out of the best experience possible?  That experience being your own.

Here is a video on quantum physics, that I first watched years ago, long before I read Timeline.  It was my first introduction to the fascinating study of quantum physics.



It made me wonder, what do we miss, when we observe?  Is observation the reason our dreams can be so strange?  What do you think?

Defining What I Want

Over the years, I have given lots of thought to what I really want, when it comes to my home.  It seems the things that come to mind and stick around from year to year are of the impossible sort, so I try to brush them away.  But as they still stay, I am going to begin listing them today.

• I want at least 20 acres of lush grassland, 30 would be preferable, with it's own source of water clean, clear, always drinkable water.  I want a water fall with at least a 40 foot drop on the property. 
• I want to grow fruit and nut trees, with a wind break of pines, tall and stately.
• I want animals--horses, sheep, geese, milk cows, chickens, a couple of goats, a dog or two and some barn cats.
• I want a living room that we love to live in.  A dining room with two tables, that is used for more than just eating.  I want a kitchen that is designed to cook in.  I want a pantry and a cellar, stocked full of good food.  I want each of my children to have their own space.  I want extra space for guests.  I want a working craft room and a library.  I want a sunny master bedroom that is so much more than just a place to sleep--I want a true retreat.
• I want to work and live as a family, not as strangers under the same roof.

This is what I know for now.  These are the things I want for my home and family.

Have Faith and Obey

"For every house is builded by some man; but he that buildeth all things is God. 
And Moses verily was faithful in all his house, as a servant, for a testimony of those things which were to be spoken after;
but Christ as a son over his own house; whose house are we, if we hold fast the confidence and the rejoicing of the hope firm unto the end."

Hebrews 3:4-6  (emphasis mine)

I have always found it very interesting that the word house is used to mean both the physical structure that we live in as well as well as the family we are part of.  One is built by mankind, the other by God.

I find it interesting that God told me to design what I wanted and He would give it to me.  Obviously, he was speaking of the physical structure, because I knew just what I wanted for children, and that is not what I got.  I always wanted three boys and three girls, born in pairs.  My brother was my best friend growing up, and I wanted my children to have the same experience.  God chose to give me five boys.  They are friends, but all boys?  I would never have chosen that!  Don't take me wrong, I love them dearly. 

Seeing how much I enjoy my boys, is one of the reasons I find it hard to design just what I want.  There are so many variables.  I would have never chosen to have all boys, but nothing could be more perfect for us.  How am I to know what is best for my family?  For my home?  I have some ideas of what I want.  Some that haven't changed for years, others that change almost daily.

What I really want is something that looks like an 19th century manner, complete with antiques, that is self cleaning.  Real practical, don't you think?  Now, for something we could all live in... That is difficult.  I don't mind where we are at.  It is finally beginning to feel like home, but I know that I have been given an offer that I cannot refuse.  I asked God for a home, and He told me to design it.  That is my order, and I need to obey, no matter how many plans I scrap along the way. 

The rest of Hebrews 3 speaks of the Israelites that fell in the wilderness, because they refused to have faith and obey.  They did not enter His rest, in the promised land, because they refused to obey.  They wandered until they died.

I don't want to be like that.  A wanderer, with a roof over my head, never feeling or being truly at home. 

Dreaming of a Garden Hideaway

Since my first spring in this home, I have been dreaming of a garden hideaway.  A place concealed by trees and shrubs, surrounded with flowers, where one could spend a hot summer's day enjoying a book or sewing.  I want it big enough that the whole family could hang out and play, but not big enough for an impromptu game of football.  I dream of having a outdoor fire place, with an oven in the chimney and a built in grill. 

I can imagine spending the afternoon reading and playing with the children, even napping outdoors.  Lighting a small fire as the day begins to cool, and cooking supper, then eating together, all in out little get away.

I want a big lawn near by, with lots of room to run.  I want a play house for the kids, with a climbing wall and a zip line, swings and a flag on top.  There should be a sandbox nearby, for the littler ones to dig in. 

In the seven and a half years we have lived here we have done much to improve the landscaping of the yard, adding trees and dimension, improving lawns.  We tilled up half of our back yard to make a vegetable garden.  I have added flowers to my collection, nearly every year.  This last winter, I think the voles enjoyed over half of my bulbs.

Today, as I surveyed the yard, I think I may have found the place for my retreat.  It is in my vegetable garden.  For several years, I have transplanted runners from a friend's house to my yard.  Most of them have not survived, but the that few have seem to be thriving.  On the East side is a honey suckle, a couple of lilacs, a yellow rose bush and a couple of little trees that blossom with yellow flowers.  My bearded iris and peonies that I ordered the first year we lived here are stationed on that side of the garden.  At one time, they were at the foot of the garden, but as we kept expanding, they found themselves in the middle of one side.

Bearded Iris, chives, egyptian onions and a lilac bush.  The future corner of my hideaway?

It was never meant to be their permanent home.  I had bought them with a specific home in mind, but by the time they had arrived, my husband had announced other plans for the area... so I planted them at the top of my garden, hoping that by the next fall I would know where their permanent home would be.  Two years later, I moved them to their present home.  Now I am thinking it might be close to their permanent home.  If I get more runners from my friend, and line the north edge of my garden with them, then I will have two sides of my hideaway begun.  The two sides that face the world. 

The west side of my garden is going to get plenty of trees and shrubs too, but I want them to be bigger and sturdier.  The kind that kids love to climb.  The kind that will protect my yard from the wind.  The kind of trees that will attract birds to come and stay. This spring I transplanted about a dozen willows to the west edge.  They are doing well.  I have a birch, a crab apple, a lilac and a nanking cherry coming up on that side also, but only because they have not found there perminite home yet either.  That is, unless I decide not to move them!

The Vision

"Design what you want, and I'll give it to you."

I first heard those words while in prayer, some 11 1/2 years ago. My husband and I were living in small cabin in Hoback, Wyoming. It suited our immediate needs, but with summer, we would have to move, as the cabin was only rented out during the winter months. We were praying about where to go, asking God where He had for us. Day after day, we checked the local papers for places we could afford. I wholeheartedly hoped to move before our baby was born. He was due eight days before our deadline to be out.

When I heard these words, I began drawing. Drawing homes that I liked, of every shape and size. I made list after list of what I thought we needed, and yet, I never came up with something that I wanted.

I finally told God that I wanted a place where I could raise my children and a garden. I would like to have animals and a fresh watter supply. As to the housing, running water and electricity was preferable, but not required. Easy to clean and heat were the conveniences I was asking for.

As I prayed for these things, a vision of a shack on a mountain side came to mind. I knew the place I saw was straight north of Jackson Hole, Wyoming. About an inch, on my map.

The shack was on the left side of a little dirt road, that turned left off of the main road. It was up the mountain and around to the back side, so that it was not visible from the main road. There was a barn on the right side of the little road, and I could see a dune colored mountain horse corralled there. The road was different from any I had seen in the area. It was made of red clay, with large red rocks on the sides of the road.

Jackson Hole by Greg Westfall, edited by me

In the vision, I had two kids, the toddler had blond hair. I had a white dog, with brown spots. It could run like the wind. On the property, there was an old chicken coop, and an old car, half buried in the dirt. The place obviously hadn't been used for years, but with elbow grease and a bit of love, it would be my home.

www.joilene.wordpress.com

I told my husband about the vision.

He said it was impossible, because all of the land north of Jackson was national forest. I disagreed, but to no avail. We never traveled north of there, until several years later, when he heard of some lakes caused by mud slides, that he wanted to see. On the map, the lakes were about an inch north of Jackson Hole. Near them, was a tiny bit of private property, off to the left side of the road... and the dirt was red.

We didn't drive the red road, and couldn't see where it lead, as it curved around the mountain.