This is Your Challenge to Dream

This is your challenge to dream. This is your call to aim for something higher than you ever dared to reach. This is your reminder that you were meant for so much more than the shallow existence so many others are willing to passively embrace. Others. Not you. No, you’re so much braver than that. You aren’t going to waste your potential.

What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever thought to do with your life? What’s that one thing that gets your heart racing just to think of it? Did you ever think that maybe it excites you for a reason? Did you ever dare to consider that maybe you were meant to pursue that dream? I don’t care how crazy it sounds. I don’t care who told you that you could never do it. All I want to know is if you ever considered that your big, crazy, seemingly-unattainable dream was God-breathed. Because if it is, it’s not unattainable after all.

I believe that you could achieve so much more than you dare to attempt. I believe that you were meant for so much more than the life you’ve been living. I believe that you have a dream that was meant for more than just dreaming. The danger is not in aiming too high; it’s in aiming too low.

So dream, dear friend, dream. But don’t just dream. Do.

Don’t You Know Anything?

About six weeks ago, I read the most haunting book about the Nazi regime. Since then (which is ironically the name of the book ~ Then), the catchphrase of one young character has lingered in my mind: “Don’t you know anything?”

Sort of random, but a well-written book will do that to you. Anyway, the phrase resurfaced as I read through the book of Isaiah and found words of a similar kind:

“Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and His understanding no one can fathom.” (Isaiah 40:28)

“Don’t you know anything?” Isaiah seems to be asking. And I could feel guilty, but I don’t. Instead, I’m merely thankful for the reminder. This verse started a whole list of questions in my mind.

Do you not know… that God is bigger than any problem you may face?

Have you not heard… that the Lord is mighty to save?

Do you not know… that God is in control of both the big and little things?

Have you not heard… that He’s going to win in the end?

Do you not know… that God loves you with everything He is?

Have you not heard… the song of love He sings over you?

Do you not know… that He’s waiting with arms wide open?

Have you not heard… how He desperately calls your name?

Do you not know? Have you not heard? Don’t you know anything?

I realize how little I do know. More importantly, I realize that it’s okay to not know everything… just as long as I know that I can trust God with the things I don’t understand.

The In-Between Places

“Egypt’s prince became Israel’s deliverer – but somewhere in the middle he had to become Midian’s shepherd so he could learn how to lead in a godly way.” ~Shannon Primicerio

I’ve probably read those words about Moses a minimum of five times without ever really seeing them. This time, they jumped out at me. I’m going to blame it on the fact that I’m smack dab in the middle of the “Midian phase.”

Midian for Moses was an in-between place – a step away from where he didn’t want to remain, but not quite where he wanted to be. It’s a place most of us dread – a place of transition and change. Midian was a necessary tool in shaping Moses into the leader God desired for him to be, but he didn’t know that when he fled Egypt.

That’s the thing about in-between places. They never make sense while you’re in them. Sometimes you look around and ask, “God, why am I here?” But He never seems to answer, unless He gives you the occasional, “You’ll see.” But it would seem that you never “see” soon enough.

It’s frustrating to live in the in-between places. Sometimes all you can think about is how this isn’t where you want to be – even when you know it’s so much better than the place you left. Or worse, you turn out like the Israelites when they were waiting in the desert. You start to miss the place of bondage from which you fled. You start to think, “At least then I knew what was going on. I have no idea what’s happening here!”

But the thing is, God doesn’t want you to live in bondage. He doesn’t want you to merely exist; He wants you to thrive. So He takes you out of those places where you are slowly fading and He leads you into another place – the in-between place – because He knows the in-between places are necessary if you want to reach the other side.

So don’t dread the in-between places, even when they don’t seem to make sense. Don’t you know that God is making a deliverer out of you?

“But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold.” ~Job 23:10

God, is that You or am I schizophrenic?

The past two weeks, our youth group has been talking about faith. This week’s small group led to some pretty interesting discussion as I asked my girls for some examples of people in the Bible who had faith. In order to help the girls grasp the concept that they can have faith like these heroes of old, I tried to expose some flaws in these characters. Their doubts, their fears, their struggles… Basically, their humanity. At the mention of Moses, I expressed my gratitude that I’m not the only one who argues with God.

“You can’t argue with God,” one of my students laughed. “He doesn’t talk back.”

Oh, He talks back. Trust me, sweetheart, He does talk back. I know this because I have argued with God and He has answered me. But only after I learned to listen for His voice. Only after I knew enough about the character of God that I could recognize that still, small voice as more than a passing thought.

But I guess the one thing we proved in small group this week is that, if God doesn’t talk back, I’m a schizophrenic.

And so am I!

Shh, be quiet you.

Whoa, sorry about that. But seriously, how many times do you suppose we brush off God’s voice thinking that our imagination has run wild? How many times have you heard someone say, “God doesn’t speak now like He did then”? If God can’t still reveal Himself in a burning bush or a big cloud or a still, small voice that whispers soft but clear, why does the Bible say that “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever”? (Hebrews 13:8) Why are we so hesitant to believe that God talks back? Is it because we haven’t attuned our hearts to listen?

No, it’s not an audible voice, and yes, sometimes it feels more like a thought. But sometimes that “feeling” is more like a certainty. Sometimes that “thought” is just as clear as anything audible could ever be. If the definition of faith is “being certain of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1), I have faith that I can also be certain of things not heard.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to argue with God over yet another one of His harebrained assignments. Though, I’m not sure why I bother. He always wins in the end.

That’s right I do.

Ahem. But He doesn’t always get the last word.

Prophesy Illusions

They say to the seers, “See no more visions!” and to the prophets, “Give us no more visions of what is right! Tell us pleasant things, prophesy illusions.” -Isaiah 30:10

Prophesy illusions.

Those are the words that hit me hardest during my quiet time this morning, both for their poetic ring and their sad reflection of my world today. How many of us are living an illusion – a deceptive appearance of something that isn’t really there? How many of us pretend that all is well in our world when, in reality, we’re on the brink of a major meltdown? How many of us force a smile to our face as we tell ourselves we’re really just fine? We don’t need to change anything – fix anything.

We, like the obstinate nation in the book of Isaiah, ask for an illusion. We paint a mirage for ourselves of roses without thorns, hoping that maybe, if we pretend for long enough, our illusion will become our reality. We reject the truth because we’d rather live a lie, pretending that life is sunshine and rainbows. Have you ever tried to catch a rainbow? It’s impossible. You can see them, but you can never touch one because it isn’t really there. That’s the thing about illusions. They fade. Dissipate. They slip like sand through our fingertips and are gone forever.

I don’t want to be like the people described in the book of Isaiah. I’ll take the roses with the thorns, the sunshine and the rain, the laughter with the pain. I’d rather feel the sting of truth than know nothing but lies. So today I set aside my illusions – my fantasies and disguise – and beg for Truth to infuse my life with it’s healing blade.

Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free. -John 8:32

The Blank Page Before Me

I honestly would have slept right through the welcome of the new year if it hadn’t been for all the people in my house. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just a day like any other. I’ve never gotten caught up in the “brand new start” and resolutions that were meant to be broken. Which is interesting, because this year is a new start if I’ve ever had one.

I didn’t mean to quit my job in December; that’s just when it became clear that I couldn’t stay any longer. My decision shocked a lot of people. My friends, co-workers, parents… even myself. You try dreaming of something for twelve years and then realize God is calling you to something much bigger. That the dream you clung to as a child was only a small part of God’s dream for your future.

I know in my heart that the changes happened slowly – that the dreams shifted gradually. Still, it feels as if I woke up one day and found that I was a completely different woman.

Everything is new in 2012. New job, new vision, new possibilities, new challenges. I’m excited and scared all at once. Excited to see these dreams unfolding, but scared that they won’t work out exactly as I planned. Ecstatic that I’ll soon be a published author, but afraid of the new challenges that will come with this responsibility. Thrilled that God will be there to walk me through this process, but nervous that I won’t always be able to interpret His voice.

I stare at the blank page before me and wonder if I’m crazy for even considering pursuing writing full-time. I can relate to Moses when he asked God, “Who am I?” But the same words God spoke to Moses resound in my heart. “I will be with you.”

On that promise, I pick up my pen and begin to write this new chapter.