threaded

what if…

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I dream of green places—wild woods, cold creeks, salty beaches, breathtaking mountains. I dream of quiet happy gardens full of chirping birds and the smell of basil and tomato vines.

I dream of pushing paint across grained surfaces, of sweating over nails and wood, of stretching and tying fabric into form. I dream of ink and words and far away places.

In my dreams I know I don’t want to be known simply as a ‘good’ person, too kind to dismiss and yet too bland for real words. I want my name to bring up dreams and hopes and a fight for more—but more than that I want my name and all that I’ve lived to be inexorably tied to my lifelong pursuit of the One Great Love.

I’ve spent hours cutting dreams out of my heart that don’t make sense, that don’t fit into a reasonable time frame. I’ve cut out the dreams that are too hard or that will take more than I think I possess.

But what if…my love of nature will help me sooth a friends soul today. What if my painting will inspire new hope for a loved one. What if my garden’s produce will feed a hungry soul. What if my inked words give a blistered heart a ledge to hang onto.

It’s time to step into the wild, and reclaim passion. It’s time to drop my fear of becoming colorful, my fear of life. It’s time to believe that God created me and all my dreams for a purpose. That God can use it ALL for the good.

I’m starting to see that cutting out dreams is a brazen lie from the Enemy; this notion that me, my heart, my passions, were just too much and all wrong. I’ve believed for too long that I must become small to make myself less of a burden on the world around me.

It’s time to grow large and wild and give out of the abundance of that beauty.

What is the deep dream you are afraid to pursue? Do you think it’s time to go after it?

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