Orphaned Dreams

Yes, it is true we do carry unimaginable delight around in our hearts. We find it hard to imagine and often do not know it is right there, in our midst. The beauty of all God had made us to be, is contained in the vessels of this fragile humanity. And this place we live, unfathomable beauty.  He’s made it just for us. We were never created to endure the cruel blows and devastation of sin and shame, of sickness and heartache,or disasters and battles.

One day, my dreams became orphans.  I abandoned and left them.  Those dreams have cried out for years.  So long the weeping in the place they were left and for so many years. I agonized at leaving them. But, alas I thought it best. How was I to survive this life and carry them with me?  I even believed the thoughts that others planted in me, that they were unrealistic.  Yet, how was I to rescue what remained of a small part of normal, with them haunting my every turn and behind me instead of with me?  Soon, I learned to shut out their cries and trudged forward, hoping to catch a break, somehow.  But recently, I heard their cries again, those orphans still lived near by. They called my name and begged me to take them in and hold them close.

So, here I stand, a vessel.  A broken vessel. In my midst, before my eyes there are these two beautiful orphaned dreams.  They are unkempt and wildly creative, untamed and vulnerable, precious and beautiful.  I am at a crossroad, there is so much on the line and yet they are mine.  How will I care for them in this condition, do I deserve such a privilege, what changes will ensue if I take them in?

Yet God brought their voices to my ears and heart. He entrusted them to me to begin with.  He made their home my heart. These dreams are special. And they have been awaiting my return for years now.

So, I took a step towards them, wondering if we’d have to be reintroduced. My caution was unwarranted, they ran to my heart with outstretched arms, begging to be embraced… taking away my breath. I knew them all over again.  Their joyous faces upturned and their hearts recklessly abandoned in their embrace of my steps forward.  

Now there has been one, whose watched this all play out.  He’s seen every step and was even near by when I left them, in my discouragement and depression.  He watched from the shadows, like a fox waiting for its prey to be in a vulnerable place. As soon as i left those dreams unguarded, he made his move.  Taunting them at the door of the places I’d  locked them. When he was finished crushing their hopes of ever having me back, he went in search of me.  Finding me mourning and wondering if I was right to leave them. He lied to me and convinced me to never visit again, he followed me and whispered so that the voice of those beautiful orphaned dreams faded and dulled. This one became feared, I thought he had great power over me. 

Soon the light shone brightly, and I saw other people with sweet, beautiful dreams following them around. I saw hands clasped and smiles and joy.  I wondered what I had done.  How could I have abandoned those dreams, how could I have orphaned the gift of a loving God, who made them just for me?  This led me back and I found them waiting.

They were not the little girl dreams anymore though.  They were grown and their hearts were older and had more life in them. But beautiful dreams none the less. 

 And I wanted to know them again.  I remembered how it felt to dream, to really dream.  I remembered the long walks in the woods and where I met them.  And now I was meeting them again. 

This is the cry of my heart. I had dreams.  When I was so very young. But I listened to the world around me. I believed the voices, that what I loved to do most, was not my calling.  I followed the calling of those who I thought I could trust.  They said it would never work, or that I was never going to make it. I gave up drawing, painting, and writing for a time, because many said I needed a real job. I got married and had babies and poured all that was practically creative into them. And I resigned myself to the thought that it was a waste of time to pursue dreams. That others needed me too much to get caught up in it. I orphaned the dreams.  I loved my girls and my beloved husband and poured myself into them and only them. But the dreams were there, living brightly in the faces of the ones I poured into.

Life was good, and then,  suddenly I couldn’t breathe. My beloved was going away, to heaven.  Who would I be then?  He was a big part of my identity.  And that is when the cries got louder.  Then my children pulled away and begin challenging my identity more.  I looked back and saw that those dreams where more then dreams and hopes. They were the gifts of a loving Father.  He wanted me to use them, for his glory and honor.  I never viewed them that way. I’d dreamed of a husband and children too.  But these dreams were different.

I am standing here now realizing that writing and all the rest cannot be abandoned or orphaned.  What He puts in our hearts is from the beginning of our existence.  I took the hands of the dreams and am walking with them even now.  Embracing them as my own, and praying that through them, hope is born. Grace is realized. And honor shines bright.

I’ve begun to see, this vessel carries all that God has equipped me with. Broken in places, strategic places, where others may catch a glimpse of Jesus. I see His handiwork and desire to give back to him the beauty of the gifts He’s given and the dreams He’s entrusted to my care.  Oh those orphaned dreams have been adopted, and live with me now in the chaos of all I am discovering and hoping to share for His glory.


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