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Remembering How to Dream

With great trepidation, I bought myself a day planner for 2019 today. Normally, planners=life for me (where my type A people at yo), but this past half year, goals and plans were a source of discouragement, overwhelm and despair. What was the point of setting goals when a good day was when I did laundry AND made dinner and still had enough energy to have an adult conversation with my husband? What was the point of making plans if only to cancel them?

And mostly, where do you find a dream when you’ve forgotten HOW to dream? When you’ve stopped wanting things because it hurts a lot less to just not want anything than it does to constantly be disappointed when you can’t make it happen?

So I stopped having dreams and instead tried to be content with accomplishing the bare minimum of work and laundry and dishes and grocery store runs. And I found myself a puke green shade of envy watching other people who knew what they wanted to do do what they wanted to do. And I have been miserable and judgmental and exceptionally cranky (a sibling once called me the four season grinch- it was accurate this year).

This year is the year of dreaming, even if it’s small. It’s the year of seeking the Lord and asking Him how I should use my time and energy, the year of not letting people’s expectations dictate what I do. It’s the year of trying new things even if I won’t get it right the first time, and maybe letting the laundry slide for a few days because something else is the better choice.

If Jesus makes my dreams, they will not fail and I will not be crushed by them.
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