Dreams Take Time

I'm not someone to choose a word for my year or set out with any big aspirations for change.  Likely because I am a fair amount of lazy and avoid disappointment at all costs.  God knows that about me, so He tends to take care of the planning and usually by December I have realized what it is I was suppose to learn.  If not, he always lets me repeat the lesson.  He's real generous like that.  

So, after spending 2017 stepping into youth ministry and feeling BRAVE I headed into 2018 like David after Goliath.  I mean, God was for sure using me for some giant situations! He had given me a passion that excited and inspired me in a way I had never before experienced. People around me noticed. I was ready to take on the world.   Then, slowly but surely, the path I envisioned started to fade.  The ways I intended to use my passion fell away and I was left with a dream that had no real path.  Now don't get me wrong, He was still using me.  I could see that even in the midst of the confusion and when I lost sight of the ways, there were people who reminded me.  They spoke truth when the lies began to fog over.  We all need people like that in foggy seasons. 

The trouble wasn't His purpose, it was my plan. I expected big changes and new platforms.  He asked for quiet obedience and consistent sacrifice. I wanted to see the victory.  He asked me to show up with no promise of earthy success.  He was teaching me that broken hearts don't instantly heal over a cup of coffee and suffering continues long after I think it should end.  That the battle for truth over lies will continue as long as we live in this broken world and temptation won't take a backseat until the day we enter heaven's gates.  I was learning that my best intentions won't always yield the return I was hoping and my longest days might be just a glimpse of the marathon yet to come.  He put me in messy places and asked me to stay.  Not to fix or rescue, but just to stay.  That command goes against every cell in my being.  I like to make a plan  and execute.  Control the chaos.  Find a solution.  Save the day.  He didn't need me for any of that. He just asked me to stay. That was a year for the LONG HAUL.  It was a year of of learning that sometimes the most meaningful thing we can do is stick around. It doesn't draw much attention and somedays it feels a lot like that carousal at the mall going nowhere at all, but it might be the most important thing I have ever been asked to do.  The staying. 

Que 2019 and a whole lot more of the same. The year was HARD.  In every way, I felt overwhelmed by challenges and each day left me more tired than the last.  I wasn't sure if that plastic horse I seemed to be riding on would ever break free, but somewhere along the way I began to lose sight of the dream.  The world felt a blur as it passed and focusing on anything for more than a moment left me dizzy. The hard can do that to you. It steals your focus and overwhelms your senses. Leaving you grasping for a glimpse of what exists outside the ride you can't get off.  

Fast forward to the spring of 2020 and suddenly the ride came to a screeching halt and I found myself unable to stand.  I had given everything I had to stay upright on that ride....struggling to focus, shifting my weight, steadying my feet.  Now that the pressure was off, my legs gave out.  There was simply nothing left. I spent that summer beginning to RESTORE my balance and as I did, the seed of a dream began to grow again.  

In August, an Instagram post caught my eye.  A program that embodied every ounce of what I want to be to the young women that I encounter and the thought of it just wouldn't leave me.  For weeks, kept going back but never sending the application until the final hour (literally minutes from the deadline).  It was a long shot but I knew I would regret not listening to that quiet voice nudging me forward. That's the hidden courage in seemingly impossible scenarios.  It's easy to be brave when you know it will never happen.   Three weeks, two reference checks, and one phone interview later I was offered a spot in the program.  Suddenly this far-fetched, God-inspired move had handed me a decision to make.  There was an investment on the table and I hadn't exactly planned this part out.  Spontaneous isn't my preferred method and this felt like anything but safe.  I kept my circle close but after a few days of praying and begging God for confirmation, I heard Him clearly.  "Will you continue to invest these talents I've given you or is the risk too great?"  I still wasn't sure what He was asking me to do but I did know my answer.   

The next two months were full of online classes, homework, business and practice sessions. I was beginning to feel like Noah building an ark without understanding how the flood would come.  As I boarded a plan for Charleston in early December, the pieces of this dream were still just beginning to form.  I knew who I was passionate about and I knew what I wanted to offer them, but I still struggled with how it would come together.  It wouldn't be until 2 days later after sitting through hours of training and enduring two assessments that God would use the voice of my assessor speak confidence into my shaky spirit.  Her voice unleased a flood of tears that had been held at bay by only a thread that weekend.  As they ran down my face and soaked my quivering mask, I felt the dream grow roots.  

Today I received my official Go and Tell Gals Coaching License.  In the coming months, I will launch Surrendered & Pursued.  A coaching program that serves young women ages 16-24 as they release the noise of expectations and insecurities and move confidently with their hands open and eyes on Jesus.  God didn't just restore my soul.  He restored a dream that I had all but forgotten.  For months I was convinced that I didn't have a dream.  That "vision" isn't really my thing, but in the most tender of moments, He gently reminded me.  I don't know what word will resonate with me this year, but I am confident that God isn't limited by my fear or impressed by my dreams. Whether He leads me to bigger platforms or asks me to stay quiet in the mess, I won't forget the kindness He has shown me.  When God prepares the soil, the harvest never fails!