The Space to Dream

My heart pounded inside of me as I laid out my ideas, plain yet precious, for him to see.  It is the one room in this house I know he feels is mostly his.  My dream involved change, it dripped with adventure.  This plan and the details of it had been stirring inside me for a while.

I exhaled and waited.  Silence.  Then came the shake of the head, the no I knew was inevitable, yet in the moment of accepting his response, I knew I had no regrets. 

It does a heart good to dream.

Later, unexpectedly, he came to me and said, “I know I said no, but I’m really OK with it.  You spend a lot more time in there than me.  I like your idea.”  And just like that, I fell deeper in love with my guy in this small act of sacrifice.  But more than the giving up or the handing over was the shift in heart that I physically felt.  By stepping into my dream and acknowledging that it’s a good one, I felt like it might actually be possible.

We all need people to come stand beside as we dream. We need them to step over onto our side and tell us it could happen, even if it doesn’t.

Sometimes, I’m scared to dream, because I feel like I should be doing better, more important things.  Other times, I’m terrified of what I’ll do to my dream.  I have a horrible tendency to strap on expectations to my dreams, which always weigh them down, anchor them to the ground, and fail to give them the space they need to soar up into the place of Possible.

Expectations kill relationships and they box in dreams.

What I was thinking about as I went to sleep that night was not the details of carrying out my dream- a room uniquely me and a place for me to grow as a writer.  Surprisingly, my thoughts raced with possibility, with excitement, that the one I love thinks there’s a reason to dream this dream.  He believes in me, and I know that even if the dream never manifests, I am happier because I shared it with him, because dreams are meant to be shared. 

***

This morning I’m reading about how to live freely, how to live art every day.*  I am an artist with limits.  I write them down, one by one, and it doesn’t take me long to find a common thread.

Not enough time to write

Not enough money (or time) to create the writing room I’ve imagined

Not enough room in my day to connect with the people I love

The words not enough make me feel sick.  Just a couple of days ago, I wrote three simple yet powerful words in my journal underneath the date: “Jesus is enough.”  Those words stand opposing these that say, “There’s not enough,” and I ask God to show me how to live fully with what I have. I cross through the not-enoughs and write down what is accessible today.

Opportunities to write during the raw moments of each day

A place to write and more importantly, a space to dream

A phone that allows me to connect with those I love through words 
on a tiny screen when face-to-face won’t work 

***

Over coffee, I read John 14, and I hear Jesus saying, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you?  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.” (vs. 1-4)

Thomas, full of doubt, questions Jesus. “We don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?” (vs. 5)

Jesus answers, “It’s me!!” He tells them, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (vs. 6)

Then Philip uses that word- the one that creeps up on me every now and then. He says, “Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough for us,” implying that what they'd witnessed was not enough. (vs. 8)

“How can you say this?” Jesus replies, puzzled that they still don't get it after all this time.  But then He gives them this precious gift. 

Jesus gives them permission to dream.

He tells them, “Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; or at least believe on the evidence of the works themselves. Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father.” (vs. 11-12, emphasis added)

***

I return to verse 2: “My Father’s house has many rooms.” I read it again out of my big, thick Bible that I’ve had the longest: “There is more than enough room in my Father’s home.”

My dream involves redecorating a room.  Jesus is preparing a place for me in heaven, and there is more than enough room.

Jesus is my writing place.

‘Place’ in Greek is topos, and it means a place where one can settle. It indicates opportunity,  a situation favorable for attainment of a goal. Jesus’ death made it possible for me to dream.  When He rose from the grave, I was granted permission to live under His authority in the place where dreams rise up, meet the Father’s heart, and bring a smile to His face.

Jesus makes dreaming possible.

We want our kids to dream, so why would we expect something different from our heavenly Father? He loves when His children dream, especially when He has placed the dream within us Himself.  

My dream has little to do with a physical room.  Blue paint, flowing curtains, and a desk facing the window would be beautiful, of course, but it’s more about a place in my heart- the space holding this desire that has spilled out into dreaming.  From the same place that was once badly broken, I can offer up a simple dream, free from expectations, free from regret, free.

With Jesus there is always enough space to dream. 

My dream is to bring hope and comfort to those I love and those I’ve never met with what I have: a pen, some paper, and an overflow of Jesus. 

What is your dream?


*For more about living art every day, check out Emily Freeman’s new book: A Million Little Ways.  This book has changed my thinking, lifted my soul, and reconnected me with the artist within myself.