I started fretting. And getting anxious. Dreams were passing me by, floating just out of my reach and taking my heart with them.
Had God forgotten about me? Was He passing me by, too? I thought my dreams were important to Him. Hadn't He promised me the desires of my heart?
I laid all this and more out on my messy kitchen table. With my head in my hands I let my selfish tears flow. I needed to know. I needed the reassurance of my Father.
He was as gentle as He always is. And yet His question was persistent.
"Am I more important to you than your dreams?"
I knew what God was asking and I knew what the answer would be. In His own compassionate way, He was reminding me that this life I live is not about me. I was clinging to my dreams instead of to His will. I had my own ideas of how things should work out, what I wanted living for Him to look like. It was just a matter of time, I thought, until God will bring my dreams to pass. And although I know my dreams ARE important to God, what if He has other plans?
I had to let them go. I had to choose again to let Jesus fill my soul. His dreams must become my own. And I am remembering just how incredible it is to dream God's dreams. They are more, so much more than even I dare to imagine.
This life I live is not about me and I hope that it never will be.
It's about the overwhelming, life-changing, all-encompassing love of my Jesus that dares to make the ordinary into the extraordinary, the impossible possible, and is changing the world one mended heart at a time.
Use me as you will, Father, use me as you will!