Death of a Dream? by Joylene M Bailey

Image by Hans-Jürgen Münzer from Pixabay 

Three days ago, I suddenly remembered I had this InScribe blog post to write. I was unwinding from three weeks of PEOPLE (!!!) which, for this devoted introvert, was beyond above and beyond. Not that I don’t like people, you understand, especially if the people are family. I just prefer them … more spread out.

 

Three days ago was also the day The Cowboy and I were informed that our house - the home we've been dreaming of, planning for, rearranging our lives for - was not going to be built. COVID-19, lumber shortages, soaring prices, blah blah blah. 

 

So you see, I don’t find myself in a place to be all happy and chipper about dreams at the moment. I’m actually questioning them. Why God lets us have them at all. 

Because, this isn’t just about a house. I’m not that shallow. This dream is tied to the WHY of this home, built for us but with others in mind. It’s tied to eleven years of hearing and responding to God’s nudges about the home and the land on which it would stand. At least, we thought they were His nudges. It’s made me question all of the nudges, past, present and future about anything else that we responded to. Was it all a mistake? What were we listening to if not His voice?  

 

I don’t often find myself this low. I’ve always been the cup-half-full person. I’m usually able to “rise above”, as they say, see the positive side, trust that better days are coming. Not this time.

 

And so, as I sit here to write about dreams for my writing, I can’t separate it from dreams in general and this latest one that’s been crushed. Will the dream to publish the novel I’m working on actually come true? Is it even worth hoping for? Why dream at all? Or maybe I need different dreams - nothing too grand. Something more likely to come true. But is that even a dream? It's all a muddle.  

 

~~~~~

Then I think of my blog and reread comments on posts I've written, 

… you have refreshed my spirit 

… thank you for your insight, grounding, simple words 

… brightened a dreary day

… a delightful pause where I have been able to catch my breath again 

and I realize that my dream for my words to encourage and uplift, “to sustain the weary with a word” (Is. 50:4) is actually coming true. 

 

So now, there’s the tiniest of breaks in the clouds that have overshadowed me and muddled my thinking for the last three days. I'm still unsure about the rest of the mess surrounding the dream home. I'm still crushed, smothered by the dream-killing clouds. But as I was reminded this week:

Beautiful sunsets need cloudy skies … (Paulo Coehlo) 

I'm just tired of waiting for the sunset.

 

Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay 

~~~~~

Joy writes from her home in Edmonton, AB, where she lives with The Cowboy and Babe.

Find more of her writing at Scraps of Joy, where she's usually a little more joyful.