It was back in the days before I had time to myself. Back when bottles, diapers, preschoolers and four kids in seven years took up all the free time, and then some. Our friends affectionately called them “the blurry years.” Late nights, early mornings and busy, lots of busy. Days of dishes and laundry. A uniform comprised of clothing that wouldn’t hold tight to spit up, finger paint and dirt. If you had looked in on our slightly chaotic world I would have been the first to tell you, this was my dream.Well, one of them at least.
I never did find a way to enjoy waking up in the middle of the night, but I loved sticky fingers, wet kisses and rocking to the rhythm of sweet baby breaths. Baby socks, stroller walks and teaching ABC’s, all of it was a dream come true for me. A gift. Along with the best husband on the planet, the six of us were a community. Our church had closed, and we were drifting in a lifeboat wondering if we would find somewhere to dock. Sometimes there were neighbors, family and friends, but mostly just us. We were living out our dream. Encouraging, crying, laughing, praying and lending a hand.
Because sometimes our dreams only need a community of a few who will stand with us.
Often in those years, sometimes late at night, the best husband would remind me of the other dream. The one that was bigger than I was. The one I was pretty sure would never come true. It’s the kind of dream that sits in your spirit and refuses to be silenced. You know the kind? It’s the beautiful dream that follows along while we’re busy doing life. In the space between our arguments of “can’t” and “not enough” the God of the universe whispers
“Yes you can, I am enough”
But, this dream was going to need all the help it could get. Besides the steady voice of my husband and the patient voice of the God who gifted the dream in the first place, it was quiet. Crickets. With only two voices in my corner and a whole lot of self-doubt, I was having trouble believing I could be a writer.
I remember the day we set foot in that new church. Holding our little ones hands, we took a deep breath. Our small community was about to expand. The God of the universe was whispering “yes.” He was gifting us with a safe place to raise our children, a group of people who would become our friends. A company of people who would journey with us. He was asking us to dock our boat somewhere new and we trusted Him with our hesitations, hopes, and dreams. Because sometimes our dreams need a community of cheerleaders, who will stand with us, pray with us and fight for us.
There were cheerleaders in that place that are still part of my community. They stood with us, fought for us, loved us, and encouraged us to be who we were created to be. They offered hope, opportunity and editing! And I began to really write.
Because always, our dreams need a community big or small that can encourage, speak into our lives and teach us to do the same for others. The size and shape of the company around us has changed with the course of life and the call of our good God. Community looks different in various stages of life and that’s a good thing! In each one we listen, learn and continue to dream.
I have more time to myself these days. It’s still often chaotic, and crazy. But if by chance you looked in on our world and my little yellow writing room, I’d be the first to tell you this is my dream come true. A gift from our good, creative God who says
“Yes you can, I am enough”
Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing. Thess.5:11
Shared by: Katharine Barrett