Dreaming in Seasons
What is the last dream you remember?
I’m not talking about dreaming during a good night’s sleep…over here in crazy town my little people still make that all but impossible most nights. I’m talking about really DREAMING. Catching a glimpse of a future hope that is so real you can taste it, see it and even smell it.
I think without knowing it I have always been a dreamer.
It’s odd really. In the movies the “dreamer” seems to always be a careless drifter that is easily distracted by their imagination. Since I am goal-oriented to a fault at times, this characterization of being lost in a pretend world never resonated with me. Yet, my Barbie Dolls were doctors, names were chosen time and time again for a house full of children, last names were tried on and many other quirky things were done all because my heart dreams big. Many of those dreams, like the moment I sat in my first class at medical school, seemed unlikely and even foolish until the moment they were realized. However, no amount a criticism or “you’ve lost it” looks seemed to dampen my resolve that those dreams would become reality. So, it is from that dreamer mindset that a comment made on social media a while back struck me to the core.
This lady – whom I do not know – was speaking about some significant health changes she had made and the take away was, “I have learned how to dream and hope again.” This wasn’t a post about more or less medications, specific exercises, food or even body changes. This was a heartfelt breathing again moment. In the bumps, bruises and knockouts of life, she had lost her ability to dream. It made me think, “Am I dreaming with the trust I once did?”
How about you, are you holding your breath, afraid to dream and hope?
Today, her words rang back to me as I was working outside. Earlier in the day as I was walking around our yard, a gentle reminder whispered that no moment here is meant to last forever, but hope remains. As the fall leaves swirled to the ground, I had the strange realization that the beauty that is created by their falling must come to an end at some point because the last leaf will indeed fall. But there’s no remorse in watching them fall because I know the hope of seeing them next Autumn. Hope remains.
That’s why dreams are so important.
Yet, the very work I did today was a reminder of the importance in dreaming even in the seasons when everything seems to be dying. For hours I worked preparing a future garden in the midst of changing leaves, sun-kissed cheeks and crisp air. Three hard frosts have already killed the more tender plants and weeds. Winter is coming and all will look dead and still. My garden (which has yet to have the first seed planted or vegetable grown) holds a glimmer of hope for a green, living, thriving future even now when it is nothing but shades of tan and brown. Sure, there will come cold and hardships just down the road, but just as surely will come the thaw of the last frost and then beds built today will be ripe with fertile soil from work done when nothing was growing.
Life is a journey filled with hard frosts, bitter cold, deep nights, and dying plants. In it, I’m learning that being still doesn’t mean doing nothing. Instead, it is taking the advice of wise gardeners and preparing beds with layers of dry, dead things while trusting that in time it will become a useful space for growing lovely things in warmth, sunshine and rain.
There are seasons in life where we must trust the work done in obedience to make a way for the dreams He has placed in our hearts.
We all have seasons in our life. For me, it’s currently more of a Fall leading into Winter period than I have ever experienced before. That doesn’t change the ability to dream. To choose Hope. Even in the most bleak, quiet days we can choose to trust the dormancy required for growth and refuse to believe the lie of death. With breath comes purpose. So, when struggling to understand the purpose of a particular season, may we choose to be still by obediently doing those things Wisdom says will prepare us for the future planed with us in mind.
written by Kelli Keller
Be still, and know that I am God. Psalm 46:10a
