Sometimes I Dream About the Future

Sometimes I dream about my life in the future. It’s always ever so simplistic with a bit of a made for TV taste. I’d love to have a small one-bedroom apartment above a library. The smell of old books could waft through the floorboards and I could come downstairs after freshening up.

The library would have thousands of shelves with sweet little books covered in blankets of dust. It would have a café built in where they served the best hot chocolate with fresh whipped cream. There’d be a guy named Nick who worked there who has the thickest brown dreadlocks. I’d ask him for the usual and we’d chat about the weather. I would run my debit card through the machine as I ask him how his kids were. He’d smile real wide and show me pictures of his two-year-old daughter wearing a hat. I’d coo and listen as he tells me of how cute she is.

I would sit at a booth and read Travelling Mercies as I sipped from my steaming mug. They’d always serve the hot chocolate in pearly white ceramic mugs. There would be creamy Indie music playing and two hipsters at the table next to me would be bobbing their heads along. I may have a sticky bun. Sometimes I can’t help myself.

A friend might come up beside me and playfully punch me in the arm. I’d turn and laugh and offer her a seat. Her name would be Sunny because she’d be a hippy. She’d have a colorful tie-dye shirt on and khaki skirt. Her long blonde hair would be tied up in a ponytail that flowed down her back. A worn flower would stick out of the side of her head. She’d be carrying some green tea that she brewed herself and that had cooled in the walk here.

We’d talk about politics and the irredeemability of the world – but yet we wouldn’t give up. We’d fuss about why things were the way they were and how unfair it was. We’d map out solutions and wish they were ours. We’d plan which protests to go to and why we would attend. We’d talk some psychology and the narcissm of society. She’d declare true Communism had not yet been achieved and is the highest goal of mankind. I’d nod and smile at her passion.

She would get up soon and we’d hug before she left. I would finish my chapter and close up my book. I would return my mug to Nick and tell him I wished him the most wonderful of days. He’d laugh and tell me to get on my way. I’d laugh and wave as I leave.

It would be a crisp fall day. I’d be wearing a thick hoodie and jeans. I would walk down the sidewalk as I listened to my iPod. My feet would step to the beat of whatever artist I was obsessed with at the time. I would chuckle at something Sunny said and think what a strange sight I would be to a passerby. I’d end up at an old building with a sideways steeple. There’s an older man with a fluff of a beard sitting on the stairs. I’d say hello to dear old Ted and he’d smile and bid me the same in a gruff voice.

I would enter the building and go upstairs. The sanctuary would be lit up with colored light. The stained glass would be echoing across the pews. I’d turn right and go into the office. I would be greeted by a smiling young woman in her 20s sitting at the front desk. She has a loud voice, which matches her loud clothes, and she calls me miz preacher. She’d point at my office door and tell me there’s a girl who’d been waiting for a couple minutes for me. I’d thank Melodie and ask if she knew who it was. She’d say she didn’t recognize her.

My office would be just big enough for a desk, three chairs and a coffee table. I would be thinking of getting a shelf to put my books on. My coffee table would have some peppermint candies on it and a box of tissues. Three or four books would sit on my desk as well as a tired looking desktop computer. The walls would be a nice bright white and the floor was carpeted a dark green. A girl would be sitting down in one of the chairs by the coffee table. She’d have too much makeup on and be holding her hands together around her stomach. She’d have the biggest blackest eyes and her hair would be only slightly matted. I’d sit down with her and she’d whisper. I would listen to her and try to suggest some of her options. She’d pull at her t-shirt and I’d get up and give her a hug. She said she’d think about it and she would leave.

I’d go to my computer and email a couple people back. I’d get some paperwork done and try to prepare a sermon. I say try because I would get interrupted by lots of people needing to talk. Melodie would have questions about how I budgeted for our next youth event. I may have gotten a number or two wrong. She would smirk and I’d tell her how lucky I was to have her around. She would laugh and I’d try at my sermon again.

The lead pastor would stop in and we’d have a lunch meeting with the children’s pastor, Melodie, and myself. The children’s pastor would be about my age and have a massive amount of freckles. She’d have a gentle and quiet spirit that would humble me. Our lead pastor would be a very deep thinker and have lots of questions. He wouldn’t ask these questions arrogantly, but he wanted to fully understand why we arrived at our decisions. We would all be passionate about the church. We would sometimes have different ideas and sometimes I would get defensive. We would work together though, and come to a compromise.

After my work in the office was done, we’d have our weekday evening service. On Thursday nights we would invite people to come for fellowship and music. Sometimes someone would give a few thoughts. We all sat in the pews and I’d sit with Ted. He’d smile as I sat down but wouldn’t say a word otherwise. It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt, I would think.

The people coming in would be giving out hugs freely. The older ladies would smell like perfume from the 70s. Little babies would be peering out from over their mother’s shoulders. Toddlers would stumble down the aisles with their dads watching their unbalanced steps.

The music would be a bit too loud and some vocals would be way off. But, there was more joy than anything in the words that were sung. The man leading us was swaying and almost dancing as he sang. The small little congregation swayed along and sang out in all different pitches. There would be clapping, laughing, and cheering as we sang.

We would pray for those in college and university. We’d lay hands on those who were sick, afraid, and troubled. There would be coffee and squares afterwards. I’d stay until it was dark and listen to some more stories from my brothers and sisters.

I’d walk home after such a long day. The library would be closed by now and so I’d walk up to my apartment and unlock the door. I’d fling my purse on the sofa and go to bed. I would sit there on my bed and pray my thanks to God for my day. I’d pray for Nick, Sunny, Melodie, all the kids I’d talked to that day, my lead pastor, the children’s pastor, and Ted. God and I would chat for a while and then I’d settle into bed and whisper goodnight to Him.

And sometimes I’d dream about my life in the future.