A Place for Dreaming
I remember my first love. Even though I experienced it first 40 years ago, I still feel the longing in my heart and the tightness in my chest. Listening to this song brings it back.
The song is, A Place for Dreaming by Ken Medema. I sang it at the top of my lungs in long, lonely drives between Colorado and Michigan. I had “my song” played when I made my public Profession of Faith. The repetition ingrained the song in my mind and etched it into my heart. Listening to it again makes me want to cry.
When I first encountered the dream, I was young, idealistic and hopeful. My dreams were full of grandiose ideas about what I would accomplish and who I would become. I’m older now, far closer to the end of my working days. As I look back on my life, I wonder, “Was this a life directed by that dream?” Then I pause, tighten my lips, furrow my brow and remind myself that regrets live in the past but life is lived in the present. If the dream is still here, what would it look like to live it today?
Scott Harrison in many ways is living my dream. I’m finishing his book, Thirst, and wishing that I had the opportunity to travel like he does and to meet with the poor on a regular basis. As of yet, that part of my dream is not a reality. But the dream lives on.
While I long for that piece of my dream, I wonder how to live out the rest of the dream now. I remind myself that “dreams are broken and dreamers hard to find.” And yet, I “dream (and weep sometimes) about the way that things should be.”
Will you come dreaming with me?
Is there a place for dreaming in the corners of your mind
In a world where dreams are broken and dreamers hard to find?
Do you dream and weep sometimes about the way that things should be?
Come dreaming with me, come dreaming with me. Admission is free.
Do you dream of another country where there is no push and shove
Where the rich don’t rule and the poor are fed and the only law is love,
And a neighbor is a neighbor, and there is trust and loyalty?
Come dreaming with me, dreaming with me. Admission is free.
When I was a boy, I used to daydream a lot and they told me that it would not last.
Wouldn’t have time for such a waste of my mind when my life started moving fast.
Now that I’m grown, I find that life with no dream is a hell I refuse to bear.
If it’s alright, I want to open my mind and see if my dreams are still there.
Is there a place for dreaming in the corners of your mind
In a world where dreams are broken and dreamers hard to find?
Do you dream and weep sometimes about the way that things should be?
Come dreaming with me, come dreaming with me. Admission is free.
