I am a dreamer. I love to dream. It's hopeful, it's uplifting, it's optimistic, it's seemingly flighty at times. I'm a believer and hoper for people. I might get let down a time or two because of this, but God uses it for his glory. I am made this way.
You see, I first realized this about me in middle school. I was in 7th grade and had a terribly terrific imagination. (Imagine that.) I had this dream that there was a disease going around school. It was a disease where weeds grew out from peoples faces (you read that right). Now, it might be from teenage pimples popping up on and around me. I don't know. I just know my best friend had one that flopped up and down on her face all funny like a puppy dog and I'm still giggling. I had one that spread out on my face in a wide like flowery fashion. My science teacher had one smack dab in the middle of her forehead. It was so silly. And so me.
I guess I bloomed in middle school. (haha) Because I went to a middle school youth camp that summer. Slept in a bunk beds with my bff's. Well, I woke up one night with an amazing dream. Now, I am not sure where this dream came from, but it was the most beautiful dream I have ever had. I dreamed Jesus coming down from heaven in the most beautiful white horse I had ever laid eyes on. I couldn't clearly see His face, but he came to me. Reached out his hand, and I stood in awe. He said "I love you and I am coming soon". The whole atmosphere centered on Him, and then He went back up into the clouds. His love and presence and lack of condemnation spread out like light as He came, and then went. I told the details to the girls and our counselor when I woke up and they just stared. The counselor cried. I was pointed to Revelation where this is written about. It was beautiful. Thinking of it still makes me chase after Him.
I think God works through dreams. I think His Spirit abides in us through the night, brings up Scripture and prays over us in our subconscious. I have had many a verse I repeat over and over to myself as I go to bed. He watches out for us even in the darkest of nights. We need not worry. Times I've had nightmares, I've used His Words to quiet them. In college, during high periods of anxiety, I would play verses on tape (yeah I typed tape, as in cassette player with AA batteries:). They played over and over to my subconscious. He is with me. He watches over me. Nothing is bigger. Do not fear.
I have dreams for myself. Well, at first they look like dreams. Maybe a thought in my head that keeps popping up. Then again, then again. Then God says, "Ok, my love, this one now." The the dreams come to life through plans, action, carrying through. My dreams are like balloons I blow up. They fall like thoughts, I bop them back up to the sky, they fall like thoughts, I bop them back up. For me, they usually pop from the timing being off. Or maybe I lose interest and they are bopped off into the atmosphere. Or maybe they keep coming down. And either frustrate or annoy or cause heartache or put me at a crossroad. But I haven't given up hope. They just aren't coming to reality.
Well, friends, I have been bopping this balloon back up and again, back up, and again, back up. Some times I slam that balloon up, as it hasn't come to fruition yet. To the point where I am like, "God, is this a dream, or is all this bopping back up just down right exhausting and time consuming and distracting me from some other balloon you want me to see?" I don't have the answer. Not yet. So I have decided to bob it with one hand sometimes. Or maybe my hands are full and it gets bopped by my head, or my foot. But the important thing is, I am not bopping it with both hands, like I once did. I suppose you could say I am bopping with open, not clinched, hands. With my eyes on the One who gives me hope.
This is not a fruitless time for me. I may not have the answers but I still am hopeful. But life's blessings do not stop when you have a dream that is not a reality. I've once heard the quote, "Don't waste your suffering." Suffering takes on many forms, one being an unfulfilled dream. I don't pity myself, as this time has brought me closer to God, and I would not trade anything offered me to be close to Jesus. He is real, alive, speaking, glorious. I suppose the important thing is I've learned to turn to Him. In my pain, excitement, exhaustion, joy, hope, jealousy, complacency. I still feel these things. I may always have a sting when the balloon falls. But Jesus is bigger than unfulfilled dreams. And His love covers me. His righteousness covers me and washes over me and releases me from guilt and condemnation and sweeps me up and carries me.
Pretty soon I may be at a place where this dream dies too. Where it is replaced with another one. Where other paths open and I step onto them, where different balloons fall. I'm not sure. But I'm trusting. And I'm watching and following. And I may trip every so often but I'm always picked back up, brushed off, and set back on course. Balloons still falling around me all the while.
Unfulfilled dreams and heartache are not wasted, or a failure, or a weakness, if they allow me to see more of Jesus. And maybe the purpose of this balloon is just that, to gently turn my head to gaze at His face, look longingly into His eyes, and see just how beautiful He really is. To fall more and more in love with God. I can't say it's easy, but Lord, I'll take it. If it's more of You, so be it.
No comments:
Post a Comment