Monday, September 05, 2011
Today, my dream died. It was a long and painful death. It has taken years and the dream lived well past it’s prime. By the end it was just a shadow of the dream it was when I was a little girl and it was sapping me of my strength and my joy. Preserving it robbed me of so much emotional energy and adversely affected my other relationships. It had turned ugly, rotted and had actually infected and was killing ME as well.
When my mom died, when friends have died, when my dog died, I knew they’d gone to a better place; someplace/someone better was waiting for them in heaven (yes, even my dog. One as wise as John Piper agrees). I knew they were with God. What about dead dreams? Where do they go? What happens to them? I have to believe my dream will be fulfilled by my Father – at least the essence of it, the need in me it was meant to satisfy. But it’s hard. There is an emptiness inside me right now.
When people die there is a grieving period. What about when dreams die? Am I allowed to grieve for a bit? How is one to mourn a dead dream?