Dreams are a funny thing. They inspire us, ignite a fire within us, illuminate all that is possible in this dark and dreary world. They cause us to lift our heads to the heavens in awe, in anticipation, and they cause us to put our heads down in elation as we excitedly work towards the end we think is so near. Until it isn’t. Until one day you wake up and those same dreams that kept you up all night in hopefulness have left you sleepless in hopelessness, for all you thought would be that suddenly never will be.
We’ve all been there, at one point in our lives, cause we’re all beautifully feeling humans who live in a tragically broken world. The friend you met the first day of school that you thought would be your life-long bonus sibling, until they suddenly stopped answering your texts and you’re left clinging to every flippant “hi.” The parent you thought that had finally accepted your boundaries, until they breached your privacy once more, reminding you all of the times their promises to change merely proved to be an empty deposit slip. The workplace you thought would finally feel like home, until the pettiness and politics of the people involved invaded your safe space, and a relationship you thought that had endless possibilities is purely problematic. And nothing feels worse than when the shadows of today loom over the brightness of tomorrow, leaving you insecure and unsure that God has really called you here.
For me, the worst kind of broken dreams have come from experiential relationships. From platonic to professional relations, I’ve watched as the other person spoke daggers into my heart, avoided me like the plague, and made a mockery of my dreams, as I lied on the ground, too scared to say anything, too shattered to even breathe. Have you ever been there before? It’s a lonely place to be. And in my loneliest desperation, I found something I never expected – peace. I found my Savior where I thought She’d never be – in the middle of my shattered dreams, holding the pieces together, holding me together as She whispered, “I’m still working; this is all a part of my promise to you.”
Sometimes God’s promises don’t always look like what we originally thought, nor do the way that they align with our dreams. A short time for God may be a lifetime for us, and a long time for God may be a single day in our lives. God’s plans are not ours, nor is God’s story the script we write. We just show up, speak when we hear, “Action,” and go with the flow. Life’s not about perfection, but despite the fact that we only get one take, we get to keep going. The camera doesn’t stop when the other actors fail their lines, and neither do we. No one will ever be able to alter God’s plans for us; no one will ever prohibit us from living out our life’s purpose. And no one will ever get in the way of God keeping His promises to us.
So, back to my broken dreams – I knew February 14th would be hard. I knew I’d wake up dreaming about him, wishing I could text him in the morning, wishing I could be in his arms once more. I didn’t know though that I’d get to spend the morning chatting with my beautiful cousin in my second language, sipping a raspberry mocha and blushing when she told me how good my Spanish was. I didn’t know that I’d get to play charades at a Galentine’s Day party that weekend, screaming at the top of my lungs in the middle of a restaurant and devouring the silky smooth white chocolate truffles my surprise Galentine bought me. I didn’t know that I’d walk across the neighborhood with one of my favorite professors of all time as he asked me about my semester and we swapped stories on blizzards and Aristotle. While these aren’t the dreams I thought I’d have, they’re the dreams I cling to most dearly, because they have fulfilled me in all the ways that my wildest dreams never could. They make me feel seen, heard, validated, and loved. And my prayer is that y’all will find those dreams, as well.
Last Love 