The first week of January, as we were still celebrating the Twelve Days of Christmas, I created a little space for myself to do something I hadn’t done in a year :: I gave myself space to dream.
At the beginning of last year, 2014, I remember feeling like hope, and any chance of happiness, died when Branch died. I felt as if all life were lost, and not just for a season, but forever. It seemed the only form of mercy would be God returning and ending my pain. For a full twelve months, maybe more, dreaming became something sweet, innocent, well-meaning friends did, or suggested I do. Dreams, for me, were impossible. In my inmost being, sometimes they still are.
At the beginning of this year, 2015, I found myself ready, waiting, wanting to dream again, even if just a little. And so, on January 4th, I sat on the leather chair in our living room, I used my colorful pens, I let the dreams flow — big and small. Here is what I came up with.
Have a healthy baby. Write on my blog every week. Re-design my blog. Run 3 miles in 30 minutes. Travel to Europe. Eat at The French Laundry.
Dreams are different than goals. Dreams don’t need check-lists or priorities. Dreams don’t even need to happen. They are simply dreams. A picture of what the future could be, without any hidden agenda or judgement. Dreams.
May God’s grace be sufficient for you today, whether you are able to dream or if the dreaming will just have to wait. You and I are so very loved.
Romans 8:32 “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?”