Just A Dream

I have a confession to make: I am a dreamer. Most people probably don’t know this about me because my life seems so ordinary, regular, and put-together from the outside. But for as long as I can remember, I have dreamed. I would daydream for hours; I would lay awake at night dreaming up scenarios or situations. Sometimes my overactive imagination isn’t a good thing, but I also think life would be boring without it. My mind is random, spontaneous, and chaotic – if you know me very well at all, you know this….just try to have a conversation with me for two minutes and you’ll see what I mean :)

Well, the last few weeks at church have been about dreaming. Sermon series’ about dreams, purposes, fulfillment, etc. always hit me like a ton of bricks. I feel motivated and driven for a minute, but then the weight of life’s disappointments hits me in the face. It’s all stuff I need to hear, but sometimes wish I could continue living in my little oblivious bubble, just barely content enough with life to get by. But then these sermons happen, and it stirs in me what I have been pushing down since I was oh, probably fourteen or so. And the only thing I can think is, WHY.

Why is God doing this to me again? Why can’t He just let me be happy with my nice little life with my nice little family and my nice little house? Why isn’t that enough for me? Every once in awhile, I get this feeling like maybe something more is supposed to happen, so I slowly, cautiously start pursuing it. Well, last time that happened, a week later I found out I was pregnant…so that was a pretty clear sign to me that I was barking up the wrong tree. Brady is a huge blessing and a wonderful distraction, but I feel sometimes like that is all life is for me: one giant distraction from what I’m really supposed to be doing, whatever that looks like. And when the distractions go away or minimize, I am left with a giant hole where my purpose is supposed to be.

And then God surrounds me with some of the most incredibly talented people, kind of like dangling a carrot in front of my face, but never getting to actually eat it. And I see the dreams, aspirations, and goals of some of them and I feel so encouraged and discouraged at the same time. I have more obstacles and complications to pursuing my dreams than a lot of them do. And I begin to feel like my dreams are too big, too unattainable, too silly. And the fear of failing is always there, always present. I would rather not try and wonder what could have been than to try my best and fail.

I know the motivational verses: God won’t give you more than you can handle, everything works together for good for those who love him, do not worry about tomorrow, worry is fruitless, trust the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul, strength, lean not on my own understanding….(I’m sure I’m butchering these, but memorizing scripture is NOT my forte!). I know all these things, and yet I can’t help but worry. Worry that I’m missing out on my purpose. Worry that if I don’t let go of the control, I might never find it. Worry that I’ve already missed the boat. Worry that maybe what I would like my purpose to be isn’t what God has called me to be. Worry that I’ll never figure it out.

But I still dream – even if that’s all it ever becomes, just a dream.