First of all, thank you guys so much for your response to Tuesday’s post. I so appreciate you opening up and sharing your stories with me, for sharing my post, for dropping notes by my desk at work. It was a good day.

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I’ve been feeling the urge to share about my life with anxiety and depression for a while, but was trying to discern if I wanted to share for the sake of sharing, or to share for the greater good and to start an open conversation about that topic. To contribute to the idea that it’s okay to talk openly about stuff that’s hard. (AHH IT’S HARD DON’T TALK ABOUT STUFF EVER) But, we should! We’re doing a disservice to ourselves as humans to not explore those deep and complex parts of ourselves and share them. Oh hey! You feel those things too? What a surprise! 

When I finally decided to write that post, I saved it as a draft a week or two before Christmas. I’d scratched the itch to write about it so I didn’t need to post it. When I came back from the holiday, I saw it there. I read it again and it still conveyed accurately what I wanted, so I cleaned it up and scheduled it. That Monday night, I spent an hour or so with my good friend Cait. We started talking about how God gives us these desires to share our lives and ourselves, but we second guess and tell Him no one wants to hear it.

BUT. Jesus does not give us those passions and desires and longings for no reason. Does that mean that every dream or longing or passion or desire we have is going to come to fruition? No. But it does mean that if we humble ourselves before Him and give Him the desires of our hearts, they become the desires of His. And that, y’all, is a really beautiful thing. As Cait and I were talking, I confessed that I don’t trust Jesus enough to fulfill the dreams He’s given me. Ouch.

And that’s one thing I feel like God has been speaking to me since about October. To dream big. Anyone who knows me at all knows I’m a dreamer. I fantasize about the future, about my day, about anything. But I’m a (very) practical dreamer. My dream car? My 2007 Honda Civic. (srsly.) My dream salary? Enough to be 100% independent and to save and give a decent amount.

I specifically remember in one of my work meetings at the end of last year, the chairman felt like he needed to share something. He’s a pastor and pastors a lot of older people. He saw that they all kind of felt like all the dreams they had had come true and they didn’t dream anymore. They didn’t see the need for it. But, he said, God is not done with our dreams. Ever. He gives us new ones.

And. Then. I. Melted. Into. My. Chair. I could’ve sobbed uncontrollably right there. Part of my motivation of moving to Dallas was to become a worship leader. And, (not) surprisingly, when that didn’t happen the moment I moved here I questioned whether or not that was what I was truly supposed to do. I guess I was also mourning my Dallas dream. I’d held it tightly for so many years and it finally came true and it was wonderful and perfect and miraculous, but I didn’t have anything practical to dream about anymore. I spent months wondering and wandering. Thankfully, I had encouragement. I had someone telling me that the spiritual part of my life had been absent for those months and I’d lost my compass, so to speak. I’ll be forever grateful for those words. They reminded me of my dream. My purpose. My calling. Then God told me specifically to dream BIG. Not just to dream. He knows I already do that. But to dream BIG. To not be afraid of those wild and crazy dreams I have deep down. To let them out and give them breath and life. To trust that God is big enough. He is good enough. Because He loves me. And because he never falls off of His throne.

So that’s my word for this year. Well, I have two words: DREAM and BOLD. They go hand in hand, actually. I want to be bold generally and bold specifically in the dreams I have. I just feel that push, you know? Go big or go home, yeah? (Ew, never let me say that again.)

 

Happy 2016, dummies.