HONOR

There were hundreds of people swarming the entryway; it was orderly chaos at its best. Families came together in waves to stand in line to enter the enormous building. Framing the double-entry doors at the front of this building were two 30-foot islands of shrubbery. Each island had 4-foot walls of stone and brick built up and around them to house, protect, and display their exotic plants. The massive, yet very plain, doors were open and hordes of people eventually filtered themselves inside the building one family at a time. My family was dispersed throughout the collective group of people. I could see each member, but they weren’t together like the other families. Mikey’s family was waiting in line just behind us. There were families from all the different eras of my life: Mt. Houston, Berean Baptist School, Pentecostal Church of Humble, Six Degrees, Grace, and The Oaks. There weren’t any of my extended family members, just the core seven Joneses, plus Mikey and his family. Mom was standing stoic and unresponsive; moving her head all around seeming to make sense of the scene. Carley was butterflying all over the place, making all her social contacts with smiles and hi-fives. Kristine was walking towards Casey and Ella who were next to me in line. Dad was the farthest away talking with some of the other families. I could see everyone who belonged to me, but quite frustrated that I couldn’t collect them to one location. It seems that I blinked and all of a sudden there was a huge gap in the line between our group and the next family. We needed to race to catch up, but mom wouldn’t move. Carley and Dad wouldn’t hurry to meet us even though Kristine tried to warn them to get moving. No amount of begging would prompt Mom to move; she just stood there, watching. No amount of waving would coax Dad to meet up with us. Mike’s family was behind us still, following patiently. The family in front of us, the McDermott’s, without warning or obvious reason seated themselves on the ground and up against the garden island that was to the left of the entryway. We found out later that you couldn’t enter through the doors unless all members of your family were present and together.

I blinked my eyes again and we were inside. The place was staggeringly bright; covered with blinking lights, flashing signs, and glass display cases arranged in a maze. It was a bazaar of wares and trades. Everyone seemed to be shopping, searching for something, but the peculiar thing was that nothing was bought. There was no money, no form of barter or exchange. As I wandered through the collection of displays I began seeing paintings and creations I had crafted; things I had made in my own kitchen, backyard, and garage. Each piece displayed the word: LIVE. Even though they were pieces of artwork I had created I couldn’t be sure if I was communicating the word live in the sense of “live everyday like it’s your last”. Or if the pronunciation was with a long “I” sound so as to communicate something was filled with life and power, like a “livewire” or “livestock”. The room began to spin as I was overwhelmed with people asking me how I made this, or what I did to make that. It was like everyone knew me, but I was still somehow anonymous.

A few moments of browsing and my attention was drawn to a perfume counter. Dad was standing over the glass box encasing glimmering crystal bottles speaking to the men who evidently owned the booth: Leroy Kelly and Mike Gurley. Both of these men have influenced my life in the way of being dear friends to Dad. All three of these men live in a position that often times can create a sincere challenge to cultivate friendships. With so many people expecting something from you, it’s rare to find someone who really only needs a friend, nothing more. These two men have been friends to Dad, and I could tell they were comfortable with one another by their tone: reminiscent-with-a-touch-of-mischief. When you grow up in the home of a celebrity of sorts you learn to read tone, and this particular tone was inviting. This tone gave me permission to approach, and I felt welcome to join the conversation. After a few moments of casual chatting Dad brought me in closer, and asked his friends, Leroy and Mike, to pray for me. He told the two men I was about to take a position that would require me to handle large amounts of money, and Dad wanted my mind sharp so I could make wise decisions. He wanted his friends to join him in the journey of watching his daughter experience life, and his method of including them was to ask for their prayers.

Leroy took my hands and began to pray. Mike had his hand on Leroy’s shoulder and Dad stood there crying. Leroy took charge of the prayer, while Mike and Dad prayed quietly. I could hear all three of them and I remember my brain processing all of their words at the same time. Strangely enough I only really remember what Leroy said in his prayer, “Lord, help her examine every aspect of this opportunity and take into account the pros as well as the cons. Encourage her heart and let her mind examine every detail, even those that seem to be 100% positive. Let her consider her list of pros and cons carefully; scrutinize each option.” The prayer continued, and the mid-portion became blurry. The last statement in his prayer is somewhat repetitive from the beginning, but it’s what caught my attention the most. Leroy said, “Let not a single detail go unnoticed or disregarded. Even if something seems 100% positive, help her continue to study it carefully and to pay it full attention.”

Then I woke up.

Later this morning, I was making breakfast and watching the live streaming broadcast at Grace. The message for July is HONOR. Today’s title was “Honor Your Past, Honor Your Present, Honor Your Potential.” I’m left wondering if what I dreamt was a prerequisite to the message; if somehow my spirit was preparing me for what I would hear today, or if it’s just one giant coincidence. I can’t really believe that it was just lucky for me to dream that two men from my past were talking and praying with one of the most influential men of my present about a decision I will make concerning my potential. Neither can I explain how it isn’t a coincidence. Maybe this is where faith enters. If faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things unseen, then I have to believe that a higher power residing in me was preparing my mind in advance so I would be able to absorb the words spoken during the message and be able to apply them immediately, therefore, leaving a lasting impression that eternally alters my vision of my own potential.

In the dream Dad had them pray about a position I was considering that could potentially become a very big stressor in my life. Money means promise, fluidity, and accessibility, but on the flip side of that coin is heavy responsibility. At this point in my life I am not faced with that actual decision; there aren’t any current offers for me to deliberate requiring me to manage large amounts of money. Does that mean my spirit-self was lying to me? Does it mean that it knows something I don’t? Or is that “position” maybe just a representation of the life-change Mikey and I are in right now? Is this geographical move we are about to make the “position” Dad was asking his friends to pray about? Am I persistently inspecting my personal goals so I may continue to increase the span of my potential? And how do you know the full reaches of your potential? I know that if something is hard you shouldn’t just give up immediately, but how long should something be “hard” before you begin to see progress? Are there some things in life that will always be hard?

I do honor my past. I am honoring my present. How do I honor my potential?