On a restless summer night in a pool of my own perspiration, I dream. In the quiet slumber of an October evening, I dream.
In the quickening of the morning and the settling of the evening, I dream.
And when I am awakened and as I move through the appointed day, my dreams do not die.
Yes, they are tamed by civility and harnessed by realism, but they persist through the day.
My dreams have been cooled by the drenching rain of discouragement, but not quenched.
They have been temporarily diverted by the icy onslaught of negative criticism and stilled by the paralyzing power of self doubt, but they emerge from the cold and persist. I dream on.
I refuse to stop dreaming.
I do not subscribe to the “All your dreams can come true; it can happen to you if you’re young at heart” philosophy as much as I love to hear and sing the song. But I believe that our core dreams can drive us on to their own fulfillment in us as we submit to the One who has given them to us and who alone knows how to interpret them in our lives.
I believe that we were made to dream and that our dreams are the impulses that alert us to our significance.
Yes, dreams can become distorted, self-centered, and wrongly inflated, but those distortions point to a deeper reality. Just as perversions of reality validate reality, dreams off center cry out for centering.
I dream on because my dreams are the impulses that validate my living. They remind me that I am not an accident, that my life has meaning, and that I am a part of a larger dream.
And if dreaming is so vital for me, I want to help others dream and refine their dreams, fleshing them out with goals and strategies, reinforcing them with prayer and conforming them to God’s will from whence their essence is derived.
I dream of a life as an encourager of the dreams God has planted in your heart. That is why I will spend the rest of my life and ministry as a Pastor-Coach.
I am not where I want to be. But I believe that where I am is not where I am going.
I dream on.
Come join me.