My dreams grew and grew. Women’s ministry. Speaking throughout the country. Traveling. Writing. Climbing the proverbial corporate ladder. Doing something/anything/everything bigger than myself. All of these ideas hovered just slightly beyond my grasp, yet close enough to taste. But those hurdles didn’t matter, I felt empowered. More than just feeling empowered, I was destined to fulfill a mandate because I was responding to a charge:
Change the world.
(But not my world or the world within my reach– because that vision wouldn’t be enough, would it? Would it?)
Heal hurts. Affect change. Facilitate restoration…in HUGE life altering, earth shattering ways. That’s what I was taught. It was my sole measurement for success. If I didn’t pursue those dreams, did I lack vision? What I didn’t know then, in all of my teenage glory, was that I was handed a license to dream freely without the compasses of wisdom, perspective or temperance.
I navigated my way through college, marriage and welcoming our son into the world just six short months after I had my Bachelor’s degree in hand. And on that first night at home with our soft and sweet baby boy, the glaring hot spotlights on every dream and every vision that I had ever regarded as the only noteworthy “callings” for my life began to flicker and dim.