Field of Dreams

I was just shopping for my wedding dress.

Not my wedding dress. My dress for my sister's wedding. The one I love is sooooo beautiful. If I actually bring myself to shell out that much money for a dress I will surely only wear once, I will post it here.

I want to get it so that I can be beautiful in it.

I just remembered recently that my mom once told me that she thinks that I see myself in a white flowy dress, spinning in a field of daisies on a bright spring day. This dress brings out that part of me.

I do kind of picture myself there, only because I want to be that carefree and that beautiful, and not because I think that I am.

I love beautiful.

My sister is beautiful. My daughter is beautiful. The campus at Judson College is beautiful. Water is beautiful. Colorado is beautiful. My first car was beautiful. (My Hyundai? The Hindu?! Oh, so beautiful. Come on people.) Ireland is beautiful. Horses are beautiful. Jenna Fischer is beautiful.

My Swarovski ballerina. Sarah MacLachlan (music and woman). Fire. Angels. My son. The sound of laughter. The Psalms. My friends. ee cummings. The Prophet. Ellen is beautiful. The Jesus Prayer. Lambchop. Audrey Hepburn. Cary Grant. Cory Booker is beautiful.

Hilary Clinton is ... not beautiful.

The sun, the moon. Diamonds, emeralds, pearls. Traveling Mercies. Over The Rhine. C.S. Lewis. Dolphins. Anna's imagination. Noah's smile. My little family. My little family is so beautiful.

This is the kind of field I like to spin around in. Around and around, from one field to the next. That's why I write.

Take a moment to spin around in your beautiful.