Dream Stealer
>> Wednesday, March 26, 2008
I am experiencing a blip on the computer screen -- a momentary tripping up of my faith. At least I hope it only lasts for a moment. If I am able to let my dreams fly away that easily, I must not be as stubborn as I once thought.
Paul wrote a letter to the Ephesians from prison, one of his many from there. How can I complain about my dreams not coming to pass when I think what Paul's dream was. He desired to preach the Gospel to the Gentiles. He wanted to teach us the "unsearchable riches of Christ." Because he was in prison, it didn't mean he let his dream die. Instead, possibly even more came to Christ because of the dream stealers in his life. He let them have no place in his heart.
Joseph had real dream stealers. His brothers sold him because they weren't happy with the dreams he had. Because of that, God worked powerfully in this young man's life to help a whole nation of people to survive. All the dreams he had, God made sure came about for His glory.
And because of the suffering of Jesus, we can "approach God with freedom and confidence." (Eph. 3:12) The world attempted to cut off Jesus's dream, also. He was attacked to the point of death by dream stealers. His dream would not die either. God used those thieves to work about His plan.
My dreams -- they were brutally ripped from me, thrown to the ground, and trampled this morning. The only problem is, I don't think I let go before the demolition. But, I see, the same thing happened to Paul and to Jesus and to Joseph and to so many in the Bible. Why should I be any different? Why should I be immune to life's challenges?
I sent a friend a rather cryptic message about my experience this morning with dream stealers. She e-mailed me this, "your dreams? No.... they are still there, floating about...just waiting for the right time to light on your palm." It makes me cry even now, to read that. It reminds me that one thing can't be taken away from me. The love God has for me and the friends that He so very carefully put into my life.
And now I stand here, my arm outstretched, palm up, waiting for my dreams to light back on it as I cry out to my Abba Father.