I have dreams.
They are gossamer, fragile things.
Like the best bone china, I don't often trot them out in public.
But they are.
But what has been given by the Father of Lights, even dreams, can never really be stolen,
And I have not abandoned mine.
I treasure them, cherish them, try to do my part to prepare for their arrival.
And most of all draw close, so close to the One who gave, the One who knows when, the One who fulfills.
Combing through my archives, searching for the really real with Emily.