Discarded Dreams

dreamI am hoping for another honest chat today. Have your cup of coffee yet? Coffee makes almost everything better. I’m not sure what I enjoy most, watching it brew with promise or drinking in its warmth.

Anyway, I wanted to discuss discarded dreams today. I have so many.

I am actually excited to have so many littering my memories. I planned on being an actress, a mom, a wife. I would be successful, well-known, and accomplish all I set my mind to.

I’m 22 now and far from being an actress. I’m not well-known. I haven’t succeeded at everything. My book proposal has been rejected. I’m not a mom yet, and I spent two years in so much chronic pain that I alienated myself from people.

As a teen, I would not have chosen this path for my life. It looks grimmer than I had planned. I’m not on the stage and my success rate does the tired lean! You know what, though? I’m extraordinarily happy. I’m happy because things didn’t turn out the way I wanted them to. I’m happy because I’ve learned more about God through chronic pain and discarded dreams than I would have learned had I been handed all my young (often vain) dreams.

I’m happy because I live a real life. It’s not a dream world full of my selfish plans. As a teen, I dreamed about me. As the years passed and chronic pain, unmet expectations, and weariness of spirit ripped more of “me,” I found delight in God. 

As I delighted in God, I discarded the dreams that revolved around me. As I delighted in God, His desires became mine. He gave me what was best, and helped me abandon all that wasn’t. I’m not famous. I work in child-care, and no one cares to see me on that stage. My first manuscript has met rejection, and my expectations are constantly trampled on when they become all about me. But the delight, hope, and life in God is worth more than all the discarded dreams of my youth.

Beyond that, God has given me so many good things … a husband, a home, a dog, a job I love, friends I enjoy, a column to write, and too many life memories to count. Discarded dreams suddenly become the things that light my path toward the better plans God had for me all along. I can wallow in self-pity, or I can turn to God and find joy all along the bumpy path of this life.

I have a choice every day. Am I going to delight in God? Or am I going to desire myself above all else?

I don’t know what’s coming. Maybe, my book will never be published. Maybe, my house will burn down, or I’ll never be given the joy of a child, but this one thing I know … delighting in God throughout it all will bring steady joy and peace to my heart.

How many more dreams will be discarded?

I suppose it doesn’t really matter because it’s not about my dreams is it?

Rather, it’s about delighting in God!

Sierra Straightforward


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