I love the words to this song! As I sang them over and over
again, I realized the words didn’t stay on the surface of my mind like a fun catchy tune, but sunk down do the
deep places in my heart. God was stirring something around in there, and as I
processed, this is what I discovered…
I dreamed all the time as a kid. And I’m not talking night
time dreams. I’m talking big DREAMS of what I wanted to do with my life. I
would practice my smile in the bathroom mirror while my shower water warmed up,
or make a list of the people I’d like to thank for helping me get this far. I
saw myself as the new up and coming young journalist who always asked the right
questions, didn’t ask the stupid ones and elegantly, yet plainly spoke the
truth of what happened. I could hear the newsroom, feel the adrenaline, see my
headline story. Then after all my experiences, I’d write a NY Times Best Seller
and help the next young dreamer achieve all his or her own dreams. All before I
turned 30.
‘Cause this story of life is MINE
to write, right?
Well, not for me. I quit college to pursue our first
business venture. Two years later all that was left was a $20 thousand credit
card balance and some empty boxes. Failure #1. Then life ushered me into the
role of a mother, then homeschool teacher. The main reason I ever pick up a
pencil or paper is when I pick them up off the floor. We did start another
small business, needing to pay past and present bills. Thankfully, the Lord
provided through that, although the journey has not been without further dashed
hopes, dreams and financial despair. Through it all, I have continued to journal
my thoughts and feelings, marking life’s highs and lows, but left it to
accumulate in the privacy of the bookshelf.
No journalism job. No best-selling book. My smile has faded,
to which a few more lines have been added, and my list of
names, unwritten.
What happened?
I realized the other day that I decided not long after
Business Venture Failure #1 that I quit dreaming. If I don’t dream, I won’t
fail. If I don’t fail, I won’t be disappointed again. It’s like goal setting.
If I don’t write it down that I hope to accomplish this great feat, then when
it doesn’t happen, no one will know but me. And I can stuff that disappointment
way down deep and cover it up really well with a big happy face.
The reality of taking that position, unfortunately, is that
I also miss the blessings – that feeling of complete elation – when I do meet
the goal and pursue the dream. Celebration parties complete with food, friends,
music, food, lights, cameras, and more food always follow something like that!
But on the other side, I decide, I don’t really like parties
anyway. No one would come…the cake probably wouldn’t be home made, so it’d be
dry…too sweet…lights give me a headache…this generation takes too many pictures
anyway…I already have so much to be thankful for…yep…it’s safer here, in my
non-dreaming bubble, I conclude.
Plus, God says you have to “Sell your possessions and give
to the poor. Then you will have treasure in heaven where moth and mold and rust
won’t destroy it.” Yeah, it’d be my luck, I’d earn a reward and the kids would
use the certificate as part of a mosaic. Doesn’t Jesus also say something about
to be first in the kingdom, I have to be last? And I should live a peaceful and
quiet life and just work with my hands, minding my own affairs. I’ll stick to
those verses and life will sound something like this:
“Kids, I better go mop the floor. You know it is so
satisfying! I love the sound of the squishy water and the seeing all that dirt
swirl down the drain! Oh no, you guys go on without me, I’m completely
satisfied crocheting Suzie’s little socks here. You know, we have to prepare
for winter!”
Now, I’m not knocking those things. I enjoy crocheting! But
completely satisfying? Not really! When I put on this mask, inside, I’m shriveling
up inside, stitch by stitch, because God created me for something more.
So then I resort to prayers (cries/sobs really) like this:
But Lord, the last dream I had, you squashed it, flat, while
almost squashing ME with it!”
“What are you dreaming about Julie?”
You know what I’m dreaming about Lord. What if I tell you
and you say you won’t allow it?
“What if I created it?”
Well, then I’m scared that it would actually happen!
“Will you trust me?”
Yes. Will you help me?
“What do you think?”
So, all these words to say, I’m opening up my heart again to
dream like a little kid. I’ve placed my ladder against this thing that’s bigger than me. As I climb,
step by step, I see the scars from the last time I climbed a similar ladder.
Those scars remind me of the lessons God has taught me through many falls that
really hurt. This time, I’m asking the Lord to show me His dreams for me,
instead of me stating my dreams for me and commanding Him to bless them. For
He’s told me He doesn’t really like it when I talk to Him that way. I’m not
asking Him for a piece of candy that I can just say please really sweet and
give the puppy dog face for.
I’ve confessed to Him I need Him to start the
dream, show me how to follow the dream and I will need Him to complete the
dream. I cannot. I am the clay. The clay doesn’t form itself. In the end, though,
it is a beautiful display to the glory and honor of the Craftsman.
I’m not practicing my smile yet, but I am confident that He
who began a good work in me will carry it out unto completion at the day of
Jesus’ return. And I’ll keep you posted!
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