Daydreams | Part 2 of 2

by Elouise

Part 1 focused on my infatuation with a gifted young man.  I can’t say I actually met him at the mission conference.  He probably never knew my name.  Yet I daydreamed about a possible future with him, and did everything I could to sit near him, discretely, at every evening meeting.

Was this normal for 13 ½ years old in 1957?  Probably.  Yet there’s more here than meets the eye.  Here’s the rest of the story for that week, followed by questions I can’t get out of my mind.

The rest of the conference
This is a mission conference, not a revival meeting. Nonetheless, on the closing night of the conference there’s a big altar call.

By now I’ve met and talked briefly with a number of real live missionaries attending the conference. Some I already knew by name because they were friends of my parents.  I’d met a few others when they were guests in one of our mission-related homes.

As a young child I often dreamed of living in a ‘foreign’ country as a missionary, seeing the world up close, and doing good for people.  Many missionaries were single women.  Strong and courageous.  Resourceful.  Interesting.  Not dull or preachy.

Why do I say all this? Because what happens next isn’t entirely driven by my hormones!

True, during this conference I’ve daydreamed my way into a make-believe scenario with a young man I don’t even know.  In fact, I’m sitting on the row in front of him.  Even though we haven’t had one decent conversation, I feel entirely at home sitting near him.  Peaceful and happy.

The altar call is compelling. First, the speaker has all the missionaries present stand up.  They stand, and we applaud them for their commitment.

Next, the speaker invites everyone who has already decided to become a missionary to stand up.  ‘My’ young man stands up.  My heart skips a beat.  This is new information.  I stay seated.  I’ve never actually made a decision like this before.

Finally, the speaker invites anyone to stand who now feels called to become a missionary but has never made a public commitment about this. I’m a bit anxious.  This is serious.  Then, slowly and deliberately, I stand up.

The speaker invites everyone to look around and see this marvelous sight. Then there’s a song and a prayer, and the conference comes to an end.  The young man just behind me smiles and wishes me well.  I’m speechless.

I go back to my dorm room feeling happy, a bit scared, and sad. As much as I enjoy daydreaming, I also have a pragmatic streak in me.  I don’t know what will happen next.  Will I ever get to that Bible college?  If he’s there, will he even recognize me?  Or be interested in me?

Later, my father comes to say goodnight. He tells me how happy and proud he and Mother are about my decision.  I wonder to myself whether I’ll make it.  If I don’t, will I be a failure in his eyes?  He and Mother didn’t get to go and be missionaries because of sickness.  First his tuberculosis, then Mother’s polio.  Did they feel like failures?  Do they feel like failures now?  I never asked.

Questions I’m asking myself now

  1. Is this piece on Daydreams (both parts) related to my posts on Dreams? (I think they’re related, but how, and why does it matter?)
  2. How important is my early pattern of infatuation with gifted young men? (Not an easy subject, yet I’m curious about my sometimes confused and confusing history with men.)
  3. What about my early patterns with gifted women? (Did I even know who they were?)
  4. What guiding principles informed me as I made major life decisions? (Did I have any?  What were they?)
  5. What roles have I played in my life, as a result of not having a clear dream for my life? (I don’t like thinking about this, but it’s high time I did.  It keeps nagging at me.)
  6. What are my regrets? (Another tough question)
  7. How do I make sense of any of this at this point in my life? (Do I need to do this?  Why?)
  8. What’s my dream now?  (Do I have one?  Is it important anymore?)

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 14 October 2014