So I had a dream last night that I was growing a beard.
|I would look just as weird.|
Seriously. One minute I was fresh-faced and hairless, the next I was growing long hair on my face. It was like the hair on your head, though, soft and fine (as a beard on a woman should be, anyway), and I looked so weird.
And then when I woke up, that dream felt so real that in my sleep-trance, I put my hand up to my face to feel the hair. The hair that wasn't there, thank goodness.
Where is Joseph, famed Interpreters of Dreams, when you need him?
I'm doing a bible study right now that talks a lot about dreaming. Dreaming big, dreaming wide open dreams, dreaming the dreams you may have stuffed down and tried to forget, the dreams you think are silly and stupid and childish and frivolous and crazy.
This is new for me. Because I've forgotten all about what I used to dream for myself, for my family, for the world. I've let go of a time when I allowed myself to dream bigger than making sure everyone gets where they need to go on time for once. I don't know what my dreams are.
I know what they are not, and that is a hairy jawline.
But Jennie Allen says that dreams are for dreaming, for glorifying God, for lighting a fire in our hearts to serve Him.
Can I let this new fire light in my heart, before I squash it with fear and disappointment and reality? Can I let God do his thing in me, without shutting the door on what I think is impossible?
I hope so.
...with man this is impossible,
but not with God;
all things are possible with God.