These past few weeks have been the happiest of my boy Seamus’s life. When I was diagnosed with pneumonia complicated by my lifelong enemy, asthma, my doctor told me that I needed to rest as much as possible. And with the exception of going to my parents’ house for the occasional dinner, I’ve been following those orders—which means I sit on the couch for hours. Seamus loves this. Day and night, he waits until I’m settled in with his favorite blanket, then he jumps into my lap. He expects my full attention; if I’m embroidering, he’ll start pulling on my thread until I pet him. A few days ago, I was checking out Facebook on my phone, and Seamus smacked my phone right out of my hand onto the floor. He reminded me of how important it is to be present in each moment. The beauty of that moment would have been spoiled if I’d stayed on my phone; instead, I left my phone on the floor and just petted my sweet, spoiled Seamus.
There have been many other beautiful moments during these last few weeks on the couch. Monty and I have played countless trivia games (he keeps score on a spreadsheet) and watched many movies with the boys. We watched the Kentucky Derby, marveling at the way the horses could run in all of the mud and rain. After watching the back story of each horse and jockey, we both picked a horse that we thought would win. At stake? The loser had to buy the winner a fifteen dollar prize from Amazon. Unfortunately, we discovered that neither of us are very good at choosing a winning horse—neither of our horses even came close to winning. But my horse beat Monty’s, so he had to buy me a prize. He bought me a coffee mug with a saying about cats on it. Every time I drink out of that mug, I smile, remembering that special afternoon (and the fact that I beat Monty.)
I’ve also spent many hours reading. This week, I decided to reread one of my all-time favorite books, “The Blue Castle.” L. M. Montgomery, the author of the “Anne of Green Gables” books, wrote it. “The Blue Castle” is about 29-year-old Valancy, who is growing increasingly depressed as the years tick by without anything changing in her unpleasant life. To escape the ugly parts of her life, Valancy takes refuge in her Blue Castle—a place in her dreams where everything is beautiful. Her story doesn’t truly begin until she reaches a breaking point and decides to drastically change her life, wanting to make the Blue Castle of her dreams as real as possible. Referring to this time in Valancy’s life, Montgomery writes, “Valancy felt as if she had exchanged her shop-worn soul for a fresh one, fire-new from the workshop of the gods. As far back as she could look, life had been dull—colorless—savorless. Now she had come to a little patch of violets, purple, fragrant, and hers for the picking.”
I used to have my own Blue Castle—a beautiful place that I dreamed about as a child and as a young adult. I dreamed of writing best-selling books, traveling, and living in my own version of a castle. Years later, when addiction derailed me, I forgot about all of those past dreams and never allowed myself to dream of the future. I thought that I didn’t deserve to dream anymore—and in all honesty, I wasn’t entirely sure that I even had a future.
I’m convinced that God led me to reread “The Blue Castle” this past week—because in the last few days, despite all the blessings I have, I started slipping into a bit of a depression. I found myself thinking in hyperbole: “I’ll never get better.” “I’ll always have to deal with illness, and I’m tired of it.” “Life is going on without me. Does anyone care?” The tipping point was when I opened my laptop to write, stared at the blank screen and blinking cursor, and thought, “What’s the point?” That truly scared me—because it’s the question I used to ask myself all the time, right before I’d slip into a labyrinthine depression so dark that I genuinely believed I would never find my way out. I’m hypervigilant now about those thoughts. I know how terribly lonely and desperate that darkness feels, and I never want to experience its depths again. So this time, when that question popped up—what’s the point?—I answered it. The point is that it matters to me. Writing and reading and sewing and being with Monty and our boys makes me happy and keeps me sane. So does remembering the lessons of my past, making an effort to find beauty in the present, and dreaming about my future.
My Blue Castle dreams have evolved a great deal since those younger years. I now dream of writing in a way that will reach others by sharing my story of recovery, grace, and redemption. I dream of strengthening my faith, my marriage, and my relationships more and more every day. The biggest difference between my dreams then and now is that I don’t just dream anymore. I pray. I turn all of my dreams over to God and trust Him with my most private hopes for my future. Again and again, God surprises me with His answers: sometimes He says no. Sometimes, He makes a dream come true in a way I hadn’t even thought of. And sometimes, He simply reminds me of all the beauty I already have in my life. And when He does, the dark recesses of my mind start to light up. I’m overcome with gratitude. And I start looking for something beautiful in every day of my life.
Did you once have a Blue Castle? Did you forget about it as you grew up and the reality of life set in? You don’t have to stop dreaming just because you grew up. In your own personal Blue Castle, your age doesn’t matter. Your past failures don’t matter. Your present circumstances don’t matter. Dream the biggest dream you can—the one that scares you and excites you at the same time. Then give it to God—“To Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us.” (Ephesians 3:20) Why dream small dreams when God can do immeasurably more? Life is so much more beautiful when we dream the biggest dreams we can—and then watch God do far more than we could ever have imagined.
“Among the spires of the firs, her Blue Castle towered. She brushed the old years and habits and intuitions away from her like dead leaves. She would not be littered with them.”L. M. Montgomery, “The Blue Castle”
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You do remember how I wanted to write about my seedling when you wrote something about living in the moment given to you? That was the time my posts did want to go through and I so wanted to tell you the story!
Here it is. Once our balconies were finally finished, the questions started how to start over again. We were no longer allowed to put hooks in the ceiling due to the new warranty and our railing planter boxes no longer fit due to the width of the new railings–no brackets longer than 4 inches to be found. At that point Darlene started sharing she would love a miniature maple tree but the cost seemed a bit too much. At the time of the conversation, another friend and fellow gardner chirped in about seedlings that sometimes could be found under the miniature maples. An argument ensued about whether a seedling would actually represent the miniature maple as these maples are grafted in and we found no common ground to either support the idea or not.
However my interest was peeked and for months I saw and observed more and more miniature maples and each time I saw one I looked closely for that possible seedling. I saw many seedlings but all were of the big maple trees that surrounded the area, none seemed to represent the miniature ones, the one I was searching for. One September day however I once again passed a miniature maple and saw what could possibly be a seedling of that tree. I stooped down on my knees and low and behold, hidden between a lot of stones that surrounded that little maple, I saw what i believed to be a seedling of a miniature maple. I removed a number of the stones and then gingerly tried to move the seedling out of the earth, making sure it indeed have a tiny root, or tentacles that suggested some sort of root!
It did as i slowly pulled it upward and wrapped it in a tissue and carried it home and placed it in water. A few days later I bought a tiny clay pot, put in some fresh soil and planted my baby. Most laughed as they saw the wee stick of about one and a half inches sticking out of the soil, but I kept hoping. The one tiny leaf it had fell of and the stick turned brown, yet is survived the winter outdoors. By very early spring I cut it’s wee top and after about a month a new piece of green appeared and 3 tiny pin drops on top of the green stick. Those tiny drops turned into 3 tiny miniscule leaves and my baby grew. Today it has it’s 5 th tiny leaf and had grown another 1 and a half inches. My baby is alive and well and it looks by all means that it just may become another miniature maple. It’s mama was lime green, but this one has displayed a mixture of green and red leaves and I am so proud of it!
Indeed, live one moment of the time and let hope guide you as this wee seedling has placed hope in me to see it grow, even if ever so slowly and see what God has in store for us of faith!
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Klara–I’ve never heard of a miniature maple but I just Googled them–very pretty! I love that you cared so much about finding that particular seedling that you searched for it for months. I found myself cheering for the seedling as I read your story. It is indeed a story of hope–and how we can flourish when we let God prune us and nurture us. You DO realize you brought home another stray? And like the others, it’s responding to your love and care. Again, you inspire me. And I’d love to see a picture of your “wee seedling” if you wanted to message it to me on Facebook. Thank you for your story; it was worth the wait. Love to you.
Thanks for understanding me! I laughed out loud when you mentioned another stray!
Yes–another stray! You simply must nurture–people, plants–what a beautiful gift you have.
Hope you are getting better, great post, hope you get off the couch soon. Thank God for your fur babies they make easier with all there love!
Thank you, Grover! I am so grateful for my cats; they definitely do make it easier to be on the couch! Thank you for reading my words–I appreciate your support so much.
Oh my oh my, you just keep me wanting to write so many stories. I have never read “The Blue Castle”, but my castles can’t be blue, that would be a nightmare, it would have to be green. Green like the leaves of the gigantic tree that I can see from my fourth floor patio or the third floor patio seeing I have two. Green like the grass below and other colors like the sidewalk with mothers and babies strolling by or just people walking and smiling at something. You see some 4 years ago we had major construction done on our building, the entire gardens surrounding the building were dug out to the sub basement of the building, the sidings were ripped of, the balconies removed and scaffolding set up. Last but not least an enormous blue cover was placed over the entire building and our doors taped shut. Our nightmare had begun and lasted for nearly 2 years of no sunlight, no vision, no fresh air, endless banging and hammering at all hours and no privacy as the men went to and fro on the scaffolding. My depression skyrocketed and at some point I managed to take the door tape of and opened my doors at least at night time for that desperate bit of fresh air. I even climbed on the scaffolding when no one was looking and opened a tiny piece of the netting that closed us in–anything to get a glimmer of green and world that somehow still existed out there somewhere. Night and day I dreamed of my green castle and all that I would do once that ugly blue cover was gone and I had vision again and my 2 balconies back. While I snuck the doors open at night for at least some air, I soon learned that was impossible at times as the racoons had found the scaffolding and as the evening approached climbed up and even had some of their babies right above me in the alcove that now lay exposed. I would watch for them at night, sitting next to my opened door so I could shut it real quick once I heard them coming. At least 12 were caught and removed from my area and released back in the wild. Today I do have 2 new balconies and new plants ( the old ones were given away as there was nowhere to store them) and every day I thank God for my “Green Castle” on both floors. That and my tiny baby seedling miniature maple that made it through the winter and now stands a proud 3 inches tall and had 4 tiny leaves–another miracle!
Klara–I see why you wouldn’t want a blue castle! All of that construction sounds like a nightmare–especially the claustrophobia of it–for two years! That would be so miserable. I love that you snuck out on the scaffolding and opened your doors at night. But then the raccoons! I’m so glad you no longer have to live in those conditions and have found your Green Castle. Your little maple is a miracle indeed–four leaves and all! You must feel such gratitude when you look back on those two long years and then see where you are now. Thank you for sharing, dear Klara.
I so love your writing…and now I must go find my copy of The Blue Castle!
Thank you so much, Lisa. It really is worth re-reading! I appreciate your encouragement so much.
YOU are your very own personal Blue Castle. YOU are the dream. It’s who you are. Magical. I love You and your words.
HRH–Thank you so much! I’m not sure that I’m the dream–but I’ll never stop dreaming, that’s for sure. And I love you, too.
Another wonderful post! Am I allowed more than one blue castle? A couple of my blue castles: Singing a solo for a cantata , singing on the church worship team, and traveling around Europe with you.
Oh, Monty–you never have to limit your dreams. You deserve a whole pile of blue castle dreams! And I’m excited to get to see you make those dreams come true.
Renee, another thoughtful beautifully written blog. As I read, Valancy’s self Imposed, Day t9 day, “nothingness, emptiness”, years and years. She made the simplest th)Bags, Beautuful, made them count. Your years of dealing with not only physical illness, but mental depression.What a mountain you have had to climb. But, Sweet Seamus, gaveyiur “reality jolt”, “Hey, Renee, it’s me, Seamus, notice me, love on me.. Cats and Dogs I feel have that “6th sense”, with their owners. This “woke you up”.”Hey. Renee, You have lots to give, share,”I’ll even let You share it, with the rest of the world”. Ah, Seamus, what wisdom. Renee, Your World is “your oyster”. I for one, will always look forward to readin* yiu4 Blogs. Now, to put in the firs5 person,”Me”. My Mothe4 would always say, “The leas5 w3 can d9 I. Life, is to show simple kindness”.We can always “sense
, choose discouragement. But, the beauty of man, We are able to “look to the horizon”, ther3 is a beautiful city awaiting. Me, reading* today’s Blog, “re-kindles , my inner fire. Din5 regret the last, improve on it. I, with the hel0 of Almighty God, will continue, “marching forward”, as a Christian soldier, to share in good th)Bags, not onl6 with My Seniors, But shine kindness to all I come in contact with, not onl6 today, Everday. 8 thank Yiu, Renee, from the depths of my heart, for your wonderful, creative @bilities.
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Harold–thank you so much. Yes, Seamus did give me a wake up call! And I agree with you that animals can sense pain and depression. I also agree with you that he is wise! I love what your mother said about kindness. It seems to be in short supply these days, especially on the internet. I’ve noticed that all of your posts and responses on Facebook are kind–because that’s just who you are. Thank you for that example. And I like this that you said: “Don’t regret the past; improve on it.” Thank you for such nice words about my blog. And thank you, from the depths of MY heart, for being such a faithful reader. So–Onward Christian Soldiers! You lead us well, General.