This month, I’m participating in one of the largest blog link-ups that exists, 31 Days hosted by The Nester. Last year, in 31 Day’s 5th year, over 1,500 bloggers participated! The challenge is to choose a topic and write about it for 31 days straight. All the bloggers who participate link-up their series at the 31 Days website. There, you can click on various categories and read until your heart’s content!

I joined the 31 Days craze for the first time in 2013 with a series titled Letters to the Unthanked. I loved my series and loved being part of a committed community of bloggers. From the moment I completed the series, I knew I’d write another in 2014. Yes, my husband’s the one who had to remind me that 31 Days wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns. It’s definitely a challenge to write, edit and publish a post every day for 31 days straight. This is no small task. 31 Days is like birthing a child. There’s no way to get through it but to do the hard work of writing, writing, and writing some more. But in the end – when you look back and realize you’ve birthed a beautiful body of work – you can say with certainty, it was worth it.

This year’s 31 Days series wasn’t conceived as quickly as last year’s. Most of the year, I intended to write another letters series titled Letters to My Baby. But I wasn’t sure it fit neatly within my new blog vision, so I tucked the concept away for another day. Another vision rose to the top. I wanted to interview 31 elderly and and hear their perspectives on loving life. It was and still is a concept I’d love to explore, but once I started making contacts, I realized that logistically speaking, it was going to require a lot more planning than I expected. So once again, I tucked away the concept for another day.

At that point, I was empty handed. But not for long!

I wanted this year’s series to be about people and for people. I wanted to interview strangers. I wanted to ask one question. And I wanted to go as deep as possible within a limited time frame. So my husband and I had a couple brainstorming sessions, and voila! The topic surfaced. I knew without a doubt. This was my 31 Days series for 2014.

31 Dreams from the Street

So here’s what it’s going to look like…

Throughout the course of the month, I’m going to be selecting 31 strangers from the street for brief, on-the-spot interviews. After explaining who I am and why I’m approaching them, I’m going to ask ONE age-old question…

“If you didn’t have to worry about money, what would you do with your life?”

Whether I have two minutes or ten minutes with someone, my goal is to develop rapport and get to the center of their heart as quickly as possible. I don’t want to get too personal, but these are the questions begging to be asked under the surface.

What are the desires of your heart? What do you really want to be when you “grow up?” What’s the thing you always wanted to do, but all the logic and reasoning in the world told you it wasn’t a good idea? What in the world would you do with your one beautiful life if you didn’t have to worry about money at all? Tell me, you, beautiful you. Tell me.

Here are the things I’m sure of going into this series…

I’m going to get 31 vastly different answers to one question.

I’m going to experience some level of rejection.

I’m going to be blown away by peoples’ dreams.

I’m going to note significant discrepancies between peoples’ realities and peoples’ dreams.

I’m going to see some people moving towards their dreams, and some people far from their dreams.

I’m going to be moved to tears.

I’m going to speak with people I definitely would’ve noticed, but wouldn’t have conversed with otherwise.

I’m going to witness the whole spectrum of emotions.

I’m going to be stretched outside of my comfort zone.

I’m going to learn a hundred things I didn’t expect to learn.

I’m going to publish some edgy content.

And I’m pretty sure I’m going to love it (and I hope you do too)!

So at this point, you might be wondering what’s in this series for you?

Well, I’ve thought about that long and hard. I can’t quite wrap my brain around what this will look like yet, but at the end of each post, I’m going to share a nugget of wisdom, a unique lesson learned from that interview – for you.

It’s not my nature to launch a 31-day series that feels so random, so unplanned, so out of my control in so many ways. I have no idea who I’m going to meet. I have no idea how they’ll respond to me or my question. And it bugs me that I can’t tell you in advance what nuggets of wisdom I’m going to share. Basically, I have no idea what I’m in for.

But this is the series I’ve chosen.

This is the series that God seems to have chosen for me.

So I return to the thing I know for sure. That question…

“If you didn’t have to worry about money, what would you do with your life?”

I’m pretty sure there are a thousand lessons waiting to be learned. It’s a matter of discerning the learning.

So let’s go! Let’s do this! It’s settled well with my soul.

These are dreams from the street.

Call me trailblazer. Call me pioneer. Call me crazy blogger lady. Whatever.

My mission? To discover what God’s laid on your soul. To discover the thing that makes your heart tick if all money’s set aside. Because I believe our hearts beat loudest and most in rhythm with God’s purposes and plans for our lives when we tap into the dreams He set in us from the beginning.

May my eyes be opened. May my soul be ready to hear. May my countenance be on spot.

May the Spirit guide my paths.

All 31 days. All 31 dreams from the street.

Send your positive thoughts and prayers my way, will you?

So I may return with stories of dreams unexpected, nuggets of wisdom, and pearls of grace for the journey ahead.

Let’s get practical for a minute, yes?! 

All 31 posts will be published on my blog home page as usual, but this post serves as my series landing page. At the bottom of this post, you’ll find links to ALL posts from the 31 Dreams from the Street series. It’s simple…find a post that intrigues you, click on it, and it’ll pop right up for your reading adventure!

I placed the series graphic on the right sidebar of my blog’s home page ——–> so click it anytime, and it’ll bring you back here where all 31 posts are listed and linked.

You can follow me on Twitter at twitter.com/AmyBPederson where I’ll tweet links to all 31 posts using hashtag #write31days, and I’d LOVE to connect on Facebook at facebook.com/AmyBPederson!

So glad you’ve chosen to stop by. Make yourself comfortable. Take a peek around the place, and know you’re welcome back anytime.

I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to embark on this adventure. So let’s get to it! Join me, will you?!

Dream 1: Pink Hair, Cats & Phone Cases (Lola)

Dream 2: Money and Greenhouses (Cecilia)

Dream 3: Windows, Wishes and Good Guys (Jared, Andy, Nick & Steve)

Dream 4: Kids, Kids & More Kids (LeAnn)

Dream 5: Coffee and Confections (Jenny)

Dream 6: Basketball and DNA (Diamond & John)

Dream 7: Therapies and a Bucket List Blessing (Lisa)

Dream 8: Happiness (Jouaye)

Dream 9: LA, NYC & Fire (Steve)

Dream 10: Education (Kao Vang)

Dream 11: Work, Art & Design (Alex)

Dream 12: Editing & Producing (Lori)

Dream 13: Writing & Gardens (Lin)

Dream 14: Food & To Be Well (woman on the street)

Dream 15: Travel & Animals (Emily)

Dream 16: Enjoyment & Fulfillment (Carlo)

Dream 17: Travel, Roots & No More Suffering (Cali)

Dream 18: Self Care & Volunteering (Lisa)

Dream 19: Diesel Trucks & The Army (Mat)

Dream 20: Diesel School & A Diesel Truck (Maddy)

Dream 21: Food & Shelter (Jazmin)

Dream 22: Loving, Living & Traveling (Jose)

Dream 23: Cartooning & Animation (Cassie)

Dream 24: Dancing & Giving (Guest Post from a Nine-Year-Old Girl, Elsa)

Dream 25: A Whole Lot of Love (Darlene)

Dream 26: Sabbath: Where The Streets Have No Name

The Day I Wanted to Quit 31 Days

Rejections From the Street

Notes From the Street

My Dreams 

Your Dreams

The call to write, not just for myself, but for others, began in 2003.

Let’s just say I was a little slow to listen.

Yep. I’m admitting it here. Now.

I was a little slow to listen.

Okay. Maybe I was really slow to listen?

I witnessed events unfold through the years. They’re all detailed in a private document I wrote in April 2014, titled “A Possible Calling.” Perhaps the truth’s in the title. As much as God’s tried to (gently) bat me over the head with His truth, with His vision for my life, I’m still calling this whole writing gig “A Possible Calling.” Because I’m human. I’m not God. Even with all the evidence, even with all the unfolding of this and that, it’s still hard for me to prove to myself and everyone else that this is my calling.

I struggle with this, can you see?

A wiser and older owl I met in November 2006 affirmed the vision I shared in the quiet of a dark hallway nook. A vision, which at the time, seemed like utter crazy talk. I seriously felt like I was making stuff up, people. Like I was pulling dreams from the sky and taking them on as my own.

Anyway, that day, among other words of wisdom I wrote down in detail when I got home, the wiser and older owl shared two pieces of advice I’ve never forgotten…

“Don’t look to people to affirm what God has already made very clear to you.”

and this…

“Walk. And follow the lily pads of grace.”

She clarified, stating that if this vision is God’s will, if this is God’s call on my life, that He will lead me through. One by one, He will place “lily pads” in my path, next steps along the way. And I will know. This is what I’m supposed to do next. This is His call.

Doesn’t it sound mystical? Maybe even a little kooky? “Lily pads of grace?” What the heck does that mean?

Well, let me tell you in plain words, friends. Maybe I didn’t know then what she really meant. But I know now. “Following the lily pads of grace” quite literally means to take one step after the next, after the next. First take this little leap of faith, then this door will open. Go through it. Take another little leap of faith here, and you’ll feel a tug to go there. So you do it. Then, you get a kick in the butt and realize there’s no other way but to do that next thing. So you do it. And it goes on. And on. And on. Until the light bulb turns on. I’ve taken 20, 30, 40 steps towards this vision. And truth be told? All of those steps have been leaps of faith.

Leaps of faith can be scary. Leaps of faith require courage. But after a while, leaps of faith make way for the answers you’ve been looking for. Things start to make sense. Little by little, the purpose of your life becomes clearer.

So today? I’m announcing the next leap of faith I’m making on this journey I’ve titled “A Possible Calling.”

I’m jumping on the next “lily pad of grace” God’s set before me. And as far as I can see, I’m jumping on over to a big one.

Well, I’m not really going to be jumping. I’m going to be flying, down to South Carolina where I’ll be attending my first writing and blogging conference! It’s happening next month while I’m doing that crazy every day writing challenge called #31Days.

I already know this writing conference is a lily pad set before me by God…

Because I’ve been a part of this community for more than four years.

Because I’ve been following this conference closely for two years and I’ve longed to be there.

Because it’s never been a possibility for me to go until this year.

Because I approached my husband about going to the conference just one week after I’d written that document, “A Possible Calling,” and he said yes. Pretty much right away. Without much persuasion on my part.

I already know this writing conference is a lily pad set before me by God…

Because my all-time favorite blogger, Ann Voskamp, was scheduled to be a keynote speaker when I signed up to attend, and then we got word she wasn’t going to be there at all. With or without Ann, I knew I was supposed to go anyway.

Because I asked Jennifer if we could room together, but she isn’t going this year.

Because I emailed a different Jennifer, Michele, Anna, Nasreen, Alia, and Kris to see if any of them would want to room with me. Four of them aren’t going to the conference this year. And two of them are, but already had roommates.

Because the week I’d planned to just go ahead and book a hotel room by myself, it was announced that the place was sold out. No more rooms available. Everyone make space. Find a place to crash. Bunk up.

Because I knew there was no other way but to put an announcement out there – I need a roommate. And believe me, that was the LAST way I wanted this to happen.

Because the eighth potential roommate decided she couldn’t afford to go this year.

I already know this writing conference is a lily pad set before me by God…

Because the ninth roommate? She had a room. And hallelujah, she had space for me! The funny thing is that we were already connected through Twitter, but hadn’t ever connected in that space personally. I’ve since discovered that there’s only one thing I need to know. She’s beautiful. She’s amazing. She’s kind-hearted. And God was determined to match us as roommates. In other words, God had the pad laid out. It just took me nine tries to find the right one to hop onto.

So I’m taking this leap of faith. Because after all of that? After all these years of feeling called to write, way back to 2003? I think it’s high time I attend a writing and blogging conference. In fact, it’s long, long overdue. Clearly God thinks so, too, or He wouldn’t have made the way.

So yes. I’m leaping. To a Christian writing and blogging conference called Allume. It’s next month and it’s sold out. 450 spirited, sold-out souls will gather to share and learn what it means to be called to write. And bless my leaping soul, I’ll be one of them.

Dear Little Me,

You make me smile.

This picture? It’s loaded with goodness. And it made me realize who you are, who you’ve always been, and who you’re still going to be.

I want to talk to you about those clothes.

Look at you, girl. You’re dressed up. You’re ready to go…to school.

You can’t manufacture that.

You’re taking this business seriously. You’re taking life seriously.

I wonder if you know that your 38-year-old self’s favorite store is 90% dressy. And 10% casual.

I wonder if you know that when you’re 38, you’ll still be staring at all those fancy dresses in your closet, and they’ll be your favorite thing to wear, but you won’t have nearly enough places to wear them.

I wonder if you know that your 38-year-old self has dreamy visions of getting dirty during the day and dressed up at night.

I wonder if God’s preparing you, already, for the beautiful and mysterious of what’s ahead.

Is there something that needs to be said? That your best self is expressed when you’re fully yourself?

Be open, girl. To truth.

There’s something about you that’s beyond your years. He made you an old dressed up soul for a reason.

Don’t be afraid to look different, to be different, to dress differently.

Don’t let others make you feel you’re dressed up too much.

Don’t worry when you’re the dressiest person in the room.

Don’t think twice when they ask you why you’re still wearing your church clothes on Sunday afternoon.

Keep choosing to wear what makes you feel like you.

Stand tall, girl.

Be confident.

Know you’re this way for a reason.

Know your dress is a way to express what’s on the inside.

And may your insides always match your outsides.

Dressed up.

Ready to go.

Taking life seriously.

Being the best YOU that you can be.

 

 

 

*This series is inspired in part by a blog post I wrote in January 2014 titled “Go. Like It Matters. Go. Like It’s Your Life.” And in part by Bonnie Gray’s new book, Finding Spiritual Whitespace. For more information about WHY I’m writing this series, click here to read the first post of this series titled “Restoring the Little Girl Voice (Part 1).”

Dear Little Me,

I know you, sweet one.

You want to achieve. You want to do your best. You know how to do your best.

You’re pretty good at achieving, aren’t you?

But girl, you’re worth far more than your achievements.

Your achievements are what you do, how you perform, how well you’re able to complete tasks according to the world’s standards.

Do you see yourself here? You’re quite literally hiding behind your achievements.

You did just about everything, and you clearly did it well. In just one swoop, you made muffins, cookies, a homemade television toy, a stuffed bear, a tote bag, and a multi-page book for children. And it looks like you won awards for them all. Good job, sweet pea. I am proud of you. You can do lots of things well.

But dear, oh dear. Do not hide behind your achievements. Don’t let those blue ribbons determine your worth. You are worth far, far more than a ribbon.

Girl, you don’t have to be the best at everything. Just be the best at some things, or a few things. Or maybe even one or two things.

God didn’t make you to be the best seamstress, and the best cook, and the best child development expert, and the best children’s literature author all at once.

Which one of those things made your eyes twinkle, little one? Which one made you light up? Which one made you smile like no other? Or maybe a better question is this. Did any of those things bring you great joy?

Girl, this is what I want for you. Pick one of those things. Or pick none at all. Find what it is that brings a sparkle to your eye. Find what fills your heart. Find what’s calling your name. Find why you were made.

You don’t have to do everything.

You don’t have to do what everyone says you should do.

You only have to do what you know in your heart you were made to do.

Forget all the rest. And rest.

I see you behind those achievements.

I know you.

You are more.

You are loved.

So put away the awards and achievements.

Lay down the ribbons.

Light up that smile. And let that twinkle shine.

 

 

 

 

*This series is inspired in part by a blog post I wrote in January 2014 titled “Go. Like It Matters. Go. Like It’s Your Life.” And in part by Bonnie Gray’s new book, Finding Spiritual Whitespace. For more information about WHY I’m writing this series, click here to read the first post of this series titled “Restoring the Little Girl Voice (Part 1).”

Dear Little Me,

This picture has all kinds of love in it, doesn’t it? Disneyland, your dad, his extra short shorts and long socks, his nightly news sized video recorder?!

But wait.

See that camera in your hand?

See that camera case around your arm?

Yeah. Those are the things I noticed first about this picture. Those are the things I love most about this picture.

This was the first time a camera appeared in a photo of you. And it was most definitely not the last.

It was 1986. You were 10 years old. You’d just received the camera as a gift six months earlier for Christmas, and you’d used it all winter and spring. This was the first trip you took with that first camera.

Here’s what I see, girl.

You’re 10. Yes, 10. Now let me tell you. Here’s what I know about 10 year olds. Sometimes they think cameras are cool. They might even think cameras are so cool that they ask for one for Christmas. And they might get that camera for Christmas. They might be into it for a day, a week, or maybe even two weeks. But then they’ll put it away and they’ll forget about it. They might forget about it for months, or they might forget about it for years. They might forget about it so long that their younger sibling finds it tucked away in a cupboard and asks if she can use it. And then that younger sibling will think it’s cool for a week or two, but she’ll tuck it back away in the cupboard eventually. So yeah. That’s how 10 year olds manage cameras as far as I’ve seen.

Here’s what I know, girl.

Some adults? They think photography is cool. But yeah. Really? It’s just okay. Like, they realize it’s a necessity of life. You know. Something they should do to mark the occasion. They’ll break out their camera here and there. Or maybe they’ll realize after the fact that they should’ve brought it for this or that. But the truth is, they forgot it. They didn’t even think of it. Or maybe they’ll buy a brand new camera for baby’s birth, but only break it out on birthdays and Christmas. And photographs in general? They’ll take them, but they won’t care so much about how they keep them. They’ll find pics for their Christmas card, but really, they’re happy just getting the job done. They’ll take their family in for a professional photograph once, but once is enough for a lifetime.

Yeah. You’ll see all that, girl.

But through the years, you’ll realize there’s something different about you.

You see, this picture represents the beginning of a long journey. A lifetime journey. You’ll be holding that camera and many others a thousand different ways. That camera will never escape your mind. Never. You’ll always know where it is, and you’ll never forget it when you need it. Let’s face it. That camera is just as good as (or even better than) your purse. Need a purse? Then you need a camera. Don’t need a purse? Then you still need a camera.

You’ll be the girl, the teenager, the college student, the graduate student, the young wife, the mom of 1-2-3, the blogger – who’ll carry that camera everywhere. When they ask you to get in front of the camera, you’ll have to figure out where to put your own. Most of the time, you’ll hide the camera behind your back. Sometimes, if there’s a safe space and the picture is formal, you’ll put it down, off to the side so nobody can see. But you’ll never, ever forget to pick it up again after the picture’s taken.

You’ll be the mom who’ll freak out when the camera’s unexpectedly out of batteries on the first day of school. Because one of the worst ways you could ever imagine starting the school year is NOT being able to take pictures of your kids on the first day of school. Because after school and second day pictures just aren’t the same. And pictures taken by your neighbor are awesome, but they’re just not the same either.

You’ll be the one who goes on a cruise ship and dresses up fancy, and then has to wonder what you’re doing with that big ‘ol camera. You’ll be the one who decides to lug it around anyway, even after your husband suggests you should just leave it in the room tonight. Because you know a moment of inspiration could come like that. And you’d be disappointed if you didn’t have that camera to capture it. So you lug it. Even though you feel like an amateur, camera carrying fool at times.

You’ll be the one who “sees” photographs in your mind. When your camera’s not with you, you’ll experience life through an imaginary lens. You’ll take shots as life passes by, you’ll think to yourself, and you’ll say out loud a thousand times – “that would’ve been a great picture.”

You’ll be one who’s committed to printing pictures, organizing pictures, displaying and storing them in a way that’s functional and accessible for your family.

You’ll be the one who knows and admires a great photographer when she sees one.

You’ll be the one who spends a lifetime dreaming of becoming a photographer. Like, for actual money. Like, for your job. Like, you could do this all day long. But for one reason or another, that dream’s swooshed right under the rug until it comes to mind next time.

Through the years, you’ll be consistent, you’ll be persistent. Never once will you skip a beat with those cameras. They’ll always be in tow.

It’ll take you a long, long time to realize that photography is one of the only things you’ve done and loved for your entire life.

Yeah. There’ll be that, girl. There will be that.

Your love for photography will blindside you one day. You’ll realize it was always, always there.  

Yet, there will come a time when you’ll realize you’re not a professional. And girl, you might start to get a little frustrated. Because you’ll still see those photos in your mind. You’ll know the photos you want to take. You’ll see them as clear as day. You’ll know they’re possible because you’ll have one hour here and another there with the most amazing cameras you’ve laid hands on. Twenty shots with each will prove you haven’t been imagining things. Those shots are possible.

So while you’ll have upgraded your camera 10-15 times through all those years, there’ll come a time when you realize you’ve outgrown all the cameras you’ve ever had, including the one you have.

You’ll take 30-40-50 shots to try for the one you see. But your camera, it just doesn’t have capacity.

This frustrates you. Makes you want to give up and say forget it, I’m just amateur anyway. There’s no proof in the pudding. Those visions? Those perfectly planned photographs? They’re just imagined up anyway. Just take pictures with the camera you have and suck it up. Make the best of it. Make it work. Move on. Be grateful for the camera you have. And just be happy taking regular ‘ol pictures like everyone else and their mother does.

But hear me out girl…

Don’t despair.

When that happens, it’s time to start merging your faith with your love for the photograph.

You must have faith, little girl.

Faith there’s a reason you’ve carried those cameras all of those years. Faith He’ll help you realize the purpose of all that lugging. Faith He’ll put all the pieces together. Faith it will all make sense. Faith He’s given you eyes to see something He sees. Faith He’ll provide the camera to capture what needs to be seen.

Girl. Keep holding the camera. Don’t hide it away. Keep seeing what you see. Keep capturing what it is that moves you, speaks to you. There are stories to be told. And those cameras you’re going to be lugging for a lifetime are your vehicles for storytelling.

Do not be afraid.

Your future is filled with stories, words and photographs.

Don’t forget the photographs.

So girl, you just go. Keep on keeping on with those cameras.

Do what you can.

Believe you can.

Believe that what you see can become reality.

 

 

 

 

*This series is inspired in part by a blog post I wrote in January 2014 titled “Go. Like It Matters. Go. Like It’s Your Life.” And in part by Bonnie Gray’s new book, Finding Spiritual Whitespace. For more information about WHY I’m writing this series, click here to read the first post of this series titled “Restoring the Little Girl Voice (Part 1).”