Gittel Fruma

Nothing, NOTHING, could have prepared me for 2020. Did you think I was talking about COVID-19? Well, I did put it in the title, so that’s merited, but I was not. Even before the great quarantine of 2020 began, this year was already a roller coaster. Speed. Steep drops. Twists and turns galore. It’s not been bad. It’s just been unexpected.

This year began in our house. Our. House. It’s been nearly 5 years since I could write that. Florida didn’t offer us the smoothest of homecomings. I copyrighted 57 songs in 2018 and used my father’s generous birthday gift to buy myself some entry level recording gear. Then, I watched the next 2 years leave my album and autobiography in the dust.

“Well, then!” I said as I picked myself up by the bootstraps and pulled up my big-girl panties, “I guess that’s not the plan.”

In the past 2 years I’ve found myself in the interesting position of visionary’s assistant. In the midst of COVID-19, I’m beginning to work for my 4th client in 2 years whose dreams have become my own. I hope with them. I celebrate with them. I strive with them. Maybe it doesn’t sound very fun to you, but I’m finding I love it. I love the thrill of chasing dreams, even if they’re not mine.

Of course, my dreams have gone nowhere. They live somewhere in the future. At some fixed point of my life I have not yet reached I will experience the manifestation of my dreams on this earth. As David said in Psalm 27:13, “I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living!” I will. I am sure of it.

But to deny that I am, at this point, weak, tired and frustrated would be pointless. I am. And to that weak, tired and frustrated self, I repeat: “That is not the plan.” Eyes on the prize, guys. Fixed on Jesus at all times.

Gehazi served Elisha as Elisha had served Elijah. Elisha saw less miracles than Gehazi and received a double portion. He followed the prophet of God and was not derailed, but inspired. Gehazi could have been the next prophet, but he sold his anointing for some shiny new clothes after watching Naaman the Aramean be healed of leprosy. Impatience and envy rob us of our blessings. Shortsightedness and foolishness erase our dreams from the future.

That is not my portion. Can I get an amen?

I stumbled across this little recording as I looked for something to post on social media. I try not to let my little platform fall into complete disrepair by posting random content once a year. In case you’re wondering if inconsistent devotion to a dream you don’t have time to work on is a successful strategy, it is not. I have 18 subscribers and 1 unfinished track for my first album. Somehow, instead of finding more time to finish this album, I find more demands on my time. At least, the autobiography is finished, but I digress…

Today I found the Lullaby Medley. I sang it together with my son into my phone when he was 4. We were living in my mother-in-law’s house. My husband was working in Minnesota. I was lonely and not yet back at work. I wove these songs together for him at night and he sang them with me. Now, he is 7 going on 30 and (while he hums incessantly) he rarely sings.

We moved into our new house last year after 4 years as gypsies living off the hospitality of our parents and friends. It was a difficult time, but I’m grateful for it. While I’m tired now, I know I will be grateful for this time as well. Being a dream builder has its advantages. We learn how dream with our eyes open.

Sweet dreams, visionaries. You will yet see God’s goodness in the land of the living. I am sure of it.