As anyone who knows me well can attest, I have many dreams. Big dreams. Out of the country and into the uncivilized wild bush dreams. I went into nursing planning to be a nurse who would go where others feared to tread. Of course, as I pointed out to myself recently, I am actually in a place no other nurses want to go, but I always imagined it somewhat differently. See following example:
My dream: “Oooh, you work in Sudan? Wow, I would not go there!”
Reality: “Eeeeew, you work in Urology? Wow, I would so never work there!”
Anyway, this dream (the one where I save lives and souls in a distant, scary country) was put on hold by my chronic fatigue syndrome and God telling me to leave China and go back to Mississippi. I was crushed, because I knew God had told me to go to China. Why would he tell me to leave? Had I missed his direction in the first place?
That dream wasn’t the only one God specifically put on my heart and then removed from my path. In fact, I was beginning to very much doubt that I could even hear from God or that any of my dreams were from him. It felt like God had betrayed me (And yes, my spiritual readers, I know God would never betray me, but it felt like it. Just because it felt like it doesn’t mean he really did.). God says stuff like “I do not whisper obscurities in dark corners—I publicly proclaim bold promises! I did not tell the children of Israel to ask for something I did not plan to give” (Isaiah 45:something, paraphrased) so why would he tell me to do something he didn’t allow me to complete?
“Maybe it was a test,” friends offered. They used the example of Abraham and Isaac. God told Abraham to kill Isaac, but really only wanted to see if he would be obedient. He didn’t make Abraham actually follow through on it. Maybe God just wanted to see if I would be obedient. This made perfect sense except for the part that I really wanted to kill Isaac! (Metaphorically speaking). I realize many people may not want to go into Tibet, or Sudan, or do things that might get them in trouble with radical Muslim groups, but I really did. Yet here I was, stuck in a low-paying, dead-end job, living alone in a trailer behind an air conditioning business in Southern Mississippi*, making enough to pay my bills and paying enough of them to make me keep working. I couldn’t see God in the death of my dreams.
Until two weeks ago. Suddenly the metaphorical light bulb flickered on. It wasn’t about killing Isaac. It wasn’t about obedience, though He did want me to be obedient. God wanted Abraham to love God more than the dream He gave him. God took away the dreams He gave me because He wanted to make sure that I love Him more than The Dream.
Lord, may I never love the dreams you give more than the Giver of those dreams.
Oh, and now that I’ve learned my lesson and still love you, can I go? Please? Pretty please? With a pickle on top….?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Hello... you don't know me, we've never met... but I just want to say I can so relate with what you shared here. I have been discovering the same thing, only God has this lovely ORIGINAL way of going about it in our lives!
(In case you're curious, I ended up on your blog via Facebook and Susanna Mast.)
May each of your days be full of new discoveries of who He is, and the blessed rest there is in being His daughter, that KNOWS He has a delightful purpose to all He proposes!
Post a Comment