With every load of laundry, with every cycle of the dishwasher, with every toy I step over, a small piece of me dies. Never once did I dream that I would grow up to be a glorified housemaid. Never did I plan to push a broom every single day or spend my evenings folding the same worn out tiny jeans and stained t-shirts that I did last week.
I know my bigger purpose in this season is to grow children. I’m to train them and prepare them for life. I get that, so I have dutifully “clothed myself in humility” and continued to scrub, wash and clean, all the while pleading for God to help me with my ever-growing seed of resentment toward those I love.
So, this is it, huh? I’ve been told my whole life, dream. Dream big, because it’s in the birth of those dreams that the human spirit stays alive. Then, I was told to passionately chase those God-given dreams.
Oh, wait, honey. We forgot to tell you about life. Dreams are in the sky. Life is on the earth. We wish you can have both, but unfortunately we don’t think you can. Pick the safe one. Pick the one here on earth, but don’t stop dreaming, my dear. Don’t stop dreaming…
Just as predicted, life happened, and I carefully wrapped up my big, wild dream and buried it deep down inside. I smile with the other moms. I fill my days with scriptures about “dying to self” and “a wife of noble character”, but on those quiet days when I’m alone with only my thoughts, I pull out my dusty dream and I timidly hold her and long for what “could’ve been”. Or on days when I can’t take one more crumb covered floor, I bitterly push away the tears, hating my dream for continuing to push against it’s coffin, my heart.
Why, God, did I dream as a child, only to grow up and watch it die? Why must I sacrifice my dream, only to hope my children will live out theirs?
In the middle of sweeping up the previous day’s mystery crumbs, I was struck with the thought, What message am I sending my children when I say to them, dream big, but then I live a life void of dreams? Am I actually sacrificing my children’s dreams too, when I sacrifice mine?
My heart began to pump.
Is it possible for dreams and life to co-exist together? Can I have both without sacrificing one or the other? What better way to demonstrate to my children that life and dreams can co-exist, then for them to watch me go after mine?
I’ve dared to believe I’m meant to have both. I traveled back to my fifth grade classroom where I first saw my big dream. I’ve dug it up and I’ve watched it sprout back to life.
I will pursue my dream. If I spend one hour a day, pursuing, sharpening and doing my dream, then after 4 years, I will have spent almost 1500 hours working to make my dream a reality. I will give no thought to how it compares to other’s dreams, but I will only pursue the desires of my heart.
Never sacrificing life.
Funny how now my domestic duties no longer suck the life out of me, but rather have become a playground for me to plan my dream. My Big Dream.