I’ve heard the Holy Spirit issue the same sweet invitation on several occasions now. It’s simple. It once came easily, but feels altogether new and unfamiliar. He’s been whispering, “It’s time to dream again.” It sparks something fresh in me. It awakens things that long.
I have many dreams that have never died. Dreams for the stewardship of our church. Dreams of advancing the kingdom. Dreams for my children’s future. But I’ve put many of my personal dreams aside in order to focus on surviving and healing. Time has a way of marching forward in spite of the roadblocks of loss and heartache. It advances, undeterred, often leaving our hearts and dreams trampled in the dust behind.
When dreams have died in the past, it feels safer not to dream again. It hurts less not too. It’s less disappointing…but it isn’t any more fulfilling. It makes us more cynical and critical. It leaves us less compassionate and childlike. It takes the wonder and charm out of life. It leaves us stuck at the roadblock, unable to move past it. We may move on with our feet as the days roll by, but not with our hearts. Our hearts stay in the dirt and get covered over time and time again as more loss and heartache approach. I’ve found that doesn’t produce life. It doesn’t satisfy. It ages us. It steals what it seeks to protect.
So, what’s the answer? If we choose to dream again, we could indeed be disappointed once more. Our next dream could fall to the ground too. Life could set up another roadblock for us. We could find ourselves on the ground, black and blue. So what do we do?
We just dream anyway. We have to dream again. Like the child that falls off the bike and gets back up. We have to, or we’ll never know the joy of the ride. We are made in the image of a dreamer. Not dreaming is to deny an aspect of who we are. It will never sit well with us. It will never be okay. We have to dream anyway, and then we have to trust our Creator to know which dreams to breathe life into.
I’ve found that God often fulfills dreams in such a way that they are almost unrecognizable when completed. Time goes on. I turn around and then for the first time recognize it from a distance. This is the thing I dreamed, but it looks so different than I pictured. Then I realize that He did the thing I dreamed but in a way different from how I asked, and yet it’s better. I’ve found that what He’s done in me in the process has become more than I could have ever dreamed. My dreams just became soil for Him to grow fruit in me. Maybe some died, but it was to nourish the soil for a better dream.
It’s time to dream again!