About Mel Schroeder

Mel is a follower of her Father, wife to Tobin, mama to Mae and Mac, a friend. She loves music, running, long chats over coffee, and could probably live on dark chocolate. A dreamer who loves everything from swinging on vines in the jungle and surfing, to dancing through her days with her sweet girl and heart-spilling on her blog, she takes each step of the ever-winding journey with faith that her Father has it all planned for good. She's working on her first book that recounts the hilarious and heart-changing moments from the years she and her hubby spent in Indonesia. However, her dreams go beyond book-writing. Mel believes that doing whatever He's planned for this beautiful life she's been given is her biggest dream of all. Mel blogs at A Barefoot Life and can be found on Facebook and Twitter.

A Bittersweet Announcement

April 30, 2018 By Mel Schroeder 43 Comments

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I remember the day I opened the email and saw the words, Congratulations! You’re a part of the God-sized Dream Team! It was a long time ago, that November 2012 morning, and sometimes I still can’t believe all that’s happened since the day Holley’s message made it to my inbox.

I didn’t know the amazing blessings that were coming.

To make a long (but fun!) story short, I’ll just say that the email led to a book launch team and some dear friendships as we connected and shared our hearts and spoke our dreams, as we covered each other in prayer and cheered our fellow dreaming sisters on. When the book launch officially ended, several of us broke off and formed a mastermind group, continuing to pray, encourage, and dream-chase together; it was in that group that our brave friend, Christine, spoke her God-sized Dream. Eager to encourage her and jump on board, we were all excited to join her as she headed up the beginning of this corner of the internet called God-sized Dreams.

In January of 2014 we launched this space as a place for dreamers to be encouraged, to share their stories and struggles, and to walk this road with others who had dreams burning in their hearts and needed the hand-holders as they stepped forward with whatever big and sometimes-scary things God had called them to do.

I can tell you that those of us who have been a part of this place have been blessed…many times over. We have loved being here, sharing our hearts with you, and hearing about all that God has done in your lives. Things have changed some…writers have joined and some have moved on to other things. Leadership has changed, too…both Kristin and Alecia have also been amazing leaders in this community over the last few years. There have been changes, but it’s always been such a blessing to be part of.

And maybe that’s why today’s announcement feels a little bittersweet.

After four years and a little more, God-sized Dreams is taking a pause.

It’s a decision that wasn’t made lightly and not without a lot of prayer. Because where there are dreamers (that’s us!) and when God is in us…well, there will always be God-sized Dreams. There’s so much encouragement still needed and so many stories that need to be shared, so many prayers that need to be prayed and so many celebrations still to happen over dreams bursting through and being realized.

But we also, as a team, have realized our limitations in life and very much have seen how dreams have changed and morphed, in both the expected and in the surprises. Many of us have walked hard roads in the last years, and while God is in the business of redeeming and we see Him clearly at work, we also see the need for obedience in learning to breathe and walk smaller, quieter roads. At least for now, those look like caring for our families and living the more immediate, tangible things that ask a lot of us in our daily lives. (Here’s looking at keeping up with my almost-8-year-old girl and chasing a toddler boy, at least for this dreamer.) 😉

When Alecia and I first had this discussion a couple of months ago, my heart ached…it feels sad to think of a possible ending to something that’s been so sweet. Placing a pause on this space isn’t what we wanted, but God was making it clear that we needed to keep our hands open with the very thing He’d placed in them. And so she communicated our thoughts and plans, and the entire writing team graciously responded.

What we know…is that we’re taking a break. That break may end, and it may not. We have ideas, visions…dreams we’d still love to see take shape here. But those need time to sit, and we need some time to wait and rest in order to let God breathe new life into what He might have for us regarding this place.

Will you pray with us and for us as we wait to see what God has next?

Will you leave a word of encouragement for a fellow dreaming sister (or brother!) in the comments?

And, if you feel led, will you share the blessings God has given as you’ve chased your dreams?

From the bottom of our dreaming hearts, we thank you all for being here and walking this with us.

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We have loved having each and every one of you here.

Here’s to our dreams and the Giver of them Who always goes with us.

Love,
the writers at GSD

Shared by Mel Schroeder

An InLinkz Link-up

Stepping in the Dark

February 28, 2018 By Mel Schroeder 4 Comments

Before I had kids I was brave…or, at least I thought I was.

I also might have been a little crazier, a little less thoughtful of the others around me, a little…well, probably a lot of things. That’s just what happens when there aren’t little people depending on you for their survival.

The five years before we had kids, my husband and I worked overseas, and our years spent in southeast Asia gave us plenty opportunities to dust off our crazy…the kind of opportunities that now make me wonder why just a tad, the kind that I’d probably rethink now that we have two littles. And they’re also the kind that I now write stories about, too. 😉

We did all sorts of things to risk our lives. Like, one time my husband did some questionable parasailing on a Thai beach. (He swears it was safe, but I’m the one who watched it.)

Both of us drove motorbikes all over a rather busy, traffic-congested city. (Most of the time we wore helmets.)

We’d drive the windy, curvy, really-intense-but-only-way-to-get-there, roads for six plus hours with eight other people in the car to hang at the beach for a weekend.

We’d eat food from local street vendors, which is a lot braver than it sounds, depending on the country in which you reside. Ahem. (But all hail to the fried bananas with chocolate sprinkles and cheese anyway. Worth every single upset stomach and sick day.) 😉

And one time, I jetted off to the REAL jungle (the full of animals kind) with some friends for a hike and a spontaneous, vine-swing. And while the getting-there part of this adventure shouldn’t have been the most memorable part of the excursion, I’ve never forgotten it.

After landing in Medan and taking a van for about four hours through some pothole-filled back roads, we had to walk the last mile or so to the Jungle Inn. At midnight.

And I clearly remember that walk very, very well, because although I was with a group, it was totally dark other than the one flashlight held by the guy who met our taxi and led us to our hotel. And I also wasn’t brave enough to tell my friends that I was currently obsessing over the fact that I was absolutely positive a poisonous snake was just lurking in the shadows, ready to chomp at the unsuspecting, but actually totally suspecting, foreign girl who was terrified of them.

Each step was taken out of terror, my mind racing with possible, all-worse-case scenarios as we tromped through the midnight blackness, up and down steps and sidewalks and places that weren’t paved at all, and I felt so much relief when we finally saw the dim lights of our hotel. I hadn’t enjoyed a single step of that bit of the journey, taken in total darkness. I also hadn’t actually SEEN a single step of the journey either.

But those steps I’d taken…the ones I couldn’t see? They still got me to my destination.

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Yes, they did…and the next day went down as one of the most memorable days of my life. A hike through the jungles of Bukit Lawang, seeing the orangutans, swinging on a vine just because I could, ending the adventure with some tubing down the river. It was an incredible day that’s etched in my heart forever.

But getting there? Ugh.

Worth it? Absolutely. But still, ugh.

I’ve been around this space for years now, and I’ll tell you, as I’ve often shared before, that I still don’t always know what my God-sized dreams are.

I’d like to write a book. I’d like to write for a few websites out there. I’d like to know for sure what God’s great, big purpose for me is in this greater, bigger world. But still, most days, I feel like I’m walking along in the dark…

I take care of my family, and most days that’s what I do. And most days, also, it feels like I’m not taking any steps forward…I’m just living my life, trying to do what’s in front of me, trying to follow my Father even if I don’t really know where I’m going.

It doesn’t always feel like enough dream chasing, but maybe…maybe it is.

For this season of my life, maybe my God-sized Dream is raising my kids and taking care of my family. It’s what God has called me to do.

Holley Gerth‘s book, You’re Made for a God-sized Dream, really resonates with me as she speaks to those moments when we’re not sure what’s next for us:

…lay it down. Surrender that goal to Jesus and tell him, “This is where I think you want me to go. So I’m moving forward. But you are Lord of my life, and you can change my path at any step along the way. What matters most to me is that I’m obedient to you.” Then go. (p. 74-75)

Obedience. That’s really what it’s all about on this dreaming journey, and what my prayer is for my life.

Whether I can see where I’m going or if I’m stepping in the dark.

Shared by Mel Schroeder

Photo by Peter Oswald on Unsplash

Don’t Be Afraid to Say It

October 2, 2017 By Mel Schroeder 16 Comments

It was finally our turn to breathe.

The lists had been made, the bags were in the trunk of the car, the bed & breakfast was booked, the sitter was at the house with our kids.

We kicked off our four days away together with an anniversary breakfast out at one of our favorite local spots, and the coffee had barely been poured before we started talking about life.

How tired we were.

But how good it was.

How challenging the days were.

But, mostly, how blessed we were to be living it all.

Before our food had even arrived, our conversation took a detour toward all the things that had been put on the back burner since our baby boy arrived a year before.

He mentioned writing.

And I sort of changed the subject because I knew there hadn’t been many words written. I told him how much I wanted the words to come, but they just weren’t there. He encouraged me to keep writing things down in hopes that maybe someday the blog would revive itself a bit.

I smiled.

And then I mentioned Indonesia.

Though we’ve been back in the States for seven years, it seems like our conversations still often end up here. It’s also no secret to him how much of a place those people still hold in my heart. He knows the ache I experience some days. And he’s seen the tears that fall, too.

But we know it’s not meant to be right now…that God has placed us where we are for a purpose. And we love it here, too.

But there was something in that conversation…as we reminisced and talked about all the changes since…that gave me freedom, and so I kept talking. Kept sharing my heart.

I told him the secret dream that’s lied buried because I was too afraid to say it aloud.

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About how I wanted to open a coffee shop. A fair trade one that supports Indonesian farmers.

Even as I spoke the words, it felt so big. The kind of big for a dream that made it feel almost unfair to speak because it seemed so far off. So impossible. And, also, I thought he’d laugh.

But he didn’t.

He smiled. And then he said words that breathed life into my dreams more than he will ever know.

Do it.

What?!

Do it. I think it’s a great thing to shoot for. Do some research and figure out what comes next.

That part of the conversation was quickly followed by my daily reality…the fact that life right now is giving what I have to my husband, seven-year-old daughter, and becoming-a-toddler boy. There’s not enough left over to do much dream chasing.

We talked about that, too, and how even if this is just the very beginning of a dream…I should still take the next step. Ask the questions, drink the coffee, make the connections, drink more coffee. All things that I can do. Especially the coffee part. 😉

I could tell you more, too. About how, within the next week, God set up two very specific appointments for me, both involving fair trade and coffee.

We had a great getaway together, and we hit the ground running once we returned home. Honestly, other than some prayers, I haven’t chased my coffee shop dream down much more. But I have thought a lot about that morning…and the one thing that’s stuck with me since I poured my heart out and dared to speak that dream to my husband.

Sometimes it’s scary to say our dreams aloud.

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But let’s put on our brave pants and our superhero capes and say them anyway.

Because maybe God has something big on the horizon. I mean, His faithfulness is great, He’s a good Father…and I know I can trust Him with my dreams, both the ones that feel safe and the ones that seem scary.

And I kind of can’t wait to see what happens with this one.

Shared by: Mel Schroeder

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

An InLinkz Link-up

The Pain…and the Good…of Still

July 12, 2017 By Mel Schroeder 30 Comments

Lately I’ve struggled, even as a writer for God-sized Dreams, with actual dreaming.

Life is just busy.

The day-to-day often gets in the way of chasing down the big hopes and plans I wish I could accomplish NOW, and I feel the pain of being still in the dreams I so badly want to come true.

I wrote these words several years ago, and today, they are an encouragement as I wait on those dreams and, instead, live out the life God has for me in this season. Maybe you find yourself in a season of stillness, too…and if so, I hope there will be some reminders and truths here that you can cling to today.

People who know me well…well, they know a lot of things about me.

And one of them is that me + ferries (as in, the boat kind) don’t get along.

At all.

It really all started back in 2006…and probably before, but I just didn’t know it. 😉

My husband and I were living and working overseas in Indonesia. We did okay financially, but we didn’t have a lot of extra money to do extravagant things often. However, we made it a point to travel over each Christmas break since, at that time of year, it was far too expensive to go back to the States. We had fun…Bali, other parts of Java, the beach.

And one year…Thailand.

Oh, my friend Becky and I had the most incredibly fun time planning that trip. We started in October to be sure that we could find the best possible deals on absolutely everything…from hotels to quick, in-country flights, to even leaving the country.

You see, in Indonesia, non-residents who are residents (if that makes any sense) have to pay every time they leave the country. $100. And on our salary, that was a lot.

But Becky and I discovered that by taking an in-country flight to Batam and, from there, taking a ferry to Singapore, we’d only have to pay $50 each.

Score.

With that, and some good bargain-hunting skills, we managed to book our entire trip…eight flights and two ferry rides per person…for around $350 each. Not bad. 🙂

We flew into Batam late on a Friday and found a place to crash for the night. The next morning we took a taxi down to the ferry terminal, had some coffee and pastries, and bought our tickets for the ferry.

All was happy happy…because I had ZERO clue as to what was coming. None.

I should have known, really…I mean motion sickness is one of my NON-love languages. If I’m not sitting in the front of the car, I’m usually sick, and I’m not making that up. Maybe I just forgot because the joy and anticipation of traipsing through Thailand for two weeks with our best friends took over…there was nothing not to love.

And for the first ten minutes on the ferry, I was good.

We were laughing, joking, dreaming about all the shopping. (‘Cause Becky and I both adore a good market where our bartering skills can be tested to the limits.) 😉

And then…it hit. The nausea, the headache, the chills…the awareness of the garbage can just two meters from me.

I literally slumped down in my seat, rested my head on my hubby, and prayed to God that I wouldn’t lose my breakfast in front of the other…oh, I don’t know…TWO HUNDRED passengers.

It worked for awhile. I lasted another half hour, to the point where we could see the Singapore shore off in the distance. A bit of relief may have crept in here.

Suddenly, the boat stopped.

Secretly, I hoped there was a hidden port behind us that I’d somehow missed.

Haha…I know, I know.

Nope, apparently the coast guard was doing a standard stop/checkpoint, which was understandable…just NOT APPRECIATED…by this girl. Not to freak anyone out, but those waters aren’t pirate-free. They’re pretty safe…but there are never any guarantees.

There was a part of me that was thankful we were stopping, but I quickly learned that it was much WORSE when we stopped. No forward motion to counteract the waves meant the ferry was just going up and down.

And up and down and up and down.

And up.

And down.

Any motion sickness I’d felt before was magnified by about six-thousand and fourteen times.

I was pretty sure I was going to die during those ten minutes…which felt like ten months.

I managed to keep it all in, but I’m sure my skin was visibly green…and the first thing I did when I stepped off that ferry (after I’d heaved into the garbage can) was almost-crawl to a corner near the line for customs, curl up into a ball, and wait for my turn to budge in line to join my traveling buddies…or my impending death, whichever came first.

But you know what, friends? I survived.

It wore off within twenty minutes. By the time we caught a cab to California Pizza Kitchen, I was much better and ready to order my usual along with unlimited Diet Coke refills.

I tell you this story for two reasons.

First, everyone loves a good Indo story, especially with Mel at her finest. Kidding, kidding. 😉

Second, and the real reason…because there’s a lot of truth wrapped up in my little ferry journey between Indonesia and Singapore.

There are times when the journey is just painful…and that pain just has to be endured.

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And there are also times when the still is even more painful.

Oh, how I wanted to Just. Get. That. Stinkin’. Ferry. To. Shore. So. I. Could. Not. Die.

But there was a forced stop…and forced stillness…something that was necessary.

I often fight God when He asks me to be still…I’d much rather just get there.

And yet, there’s so much good in the still.

Because even when it hurts, the pain will pass and the joy will come.

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Whether it’s in the form of rare American pizza or in the form of a published book.

The truth is I don’t think back on that day with fondness, but I do smile when I think of the lessons that ferry ride held for me.

May we remember, each day, that He has it all…even in the still.

What has He taught you in those painful moments of being still?

Shared by: Mel Schroeder

The Dreams We Don’t See Coming

June 5, 2017 By Mel Schroeder 25 Comments

I’ve been writing at this site now for over three years, which feels like a long time. Maybe it is?

And over those years and in all the God-sized Dreaming that’s happened in my heart, I’ve shared a lot with you about the dreams I have that fit within my comfort zone. They mostly involve writing, parenting, running, drinking coffee, and the occasional crazy adventure like swinging from a vine in the middle of a Sumatran jungle.

For whatever reason, those things…they’re me. I’ve let them become part of what defines me.

But lately…other than parenting and the coffee that is necessary to actually BE a mama…those dreams seem to have taken a backseat to everything else…possibly the very last seat in a very large bus. Between life with a baby boy and keeping up with a first grader (now-second grader…what?!) I haven’t had a lot of time or energy or mental capacity to chase down anything other than my ten month old son who thinks it’s awesome to use his hulk-like abilities to pull baby gates off walls. 😉

My confession? Words have been few and adventures even fewer.

But several months ago, an opportunity was plopped into my lap…one I didn’t see coming and one that didn’t fit into my comfort zone at all.

I’d gone with my daughter’s class to see a musical production of Elf, Jr. After the show, I was standing in the lobby talking with another mom and one of the teachers, who are both in charge of the Summer Youth Theater program at our church each year. They were talking about how much fun it would be to do this show…and ever the extrovert who doesn’t think things through before she says them (maybe we call that impulsive?!) I piped up, Let me know if I can help you out!

And I totally meant it. I love making music. Drama comes (more than) a bit naturally. I was an art teacher for a year, so there’s some creative talent somewhere in there. And, really, I just love seeing a show come together…all the parts of it. It’s so cool!

So I offered and figured they’d just smile, nod, and say thanks. Instead, they exchanged a look, and I might have panicked a bit.

Um, Mel?

Yeah?

Would you like to be the art teacher and design the sets for it? We need someone.

If I’d been sitting down, I would have fallen off my chair. Instead I smiled and said, Sure!

And then I stopped to think about what I’d actually agreed to in a single word.

Over the months since that conversation took place, I’ve done a lot of planning. I’ve read through the script multiple times, sat through tryouts, made notes, lists, and sketches, researched prices of things. I’ve watched (and sung along with) the animated Elf musical more times than you’d care to know.

Let’s just say my life has been very, very SparkleJollyTwinkleJingley. 😀

I’ve done so much planning, but can I confess something?

Every time I think about that first morning of camp…coming up in just two weeks (pray for me?)…my heart races a little. There’s some fear, tucked somewhere in there.

I know I can plan and plan and be as ready as ever, but I can’t predict how things will go. It’s all new territory, and I just have to take it and pray for His strength to do the best I can.

And right now, my best is two things. First, choose to hand it all over to God instead of freak out; and second, decide what I need to do today and do it.

And today, I’ll be hopping over to Home Depot to buy some backdrops, and you can bet I’ll be covered with sky blue and black paint before the week is over. 😉

And then? Well, I’ll tackle what’s next and remember that sometimes we just have to let go and put what we have into it all. I’m all about giving something everything I have, but it won’t do me any good to add fear to that and let it reside in my heart and take me to places of worry that I don’t need to go.

And maybe…just maybe I’ll find out that I love this whole thing…the creating, the imagining, the unknown that comes with being part of constructing something beautiful. I’m hoping so.

Designing sets…it’s not really a dream that was ever on my radar.

But sometimes God gives us dreams we don’t see coming to show us what we can do through Him.

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So here’s to a new adventure…and lots and LOTS of painting. 😉 Let me know if you’ve got any tips!

Shared by: Mel Schroeder

An InLinkz Link-up

From an Almost-Ending to a New Beginning

January 18, 2017 By Mel Schroeder 12 Comments

As any writer or storyteller might understand, there are times when you wonder if the words you’re writing should even be shared.

And this is one of those times for me.

I’m scared to put this out there…but when I think about this particular piece of my story and I see the hope and redemption woven throughout it, I’m reminded that sometimes the hardest stories to tell are the ones that need to be told the most.

And so I’m taking a deep breath today and sharing something with you all.

It’s the really, really hard stuff that somehow turned into good…and it brings me back to God and His amazing love for me.

And that’s really why I want to tell this story at all.

So the month of January probably makes a lot of us think about beginnings.

And, being a new mama (again), there’s the extremely obvious reminder of beginnings every day in the form of a sweet little baby boy. (One who is FINALLY sleeping through the night…cue all the angelic singing.)

But lately I’ve looked at him, and between the feelings of immense gratitude and insane tiredness…it sort of hits me square in the center of my heart.

And though I shouldn’t, I think about what might have never been.

Because I remember that night so clearly.

I was sixteen and a junior in high school. The world, at least to my teenage self, had crashed around me. The boy I liked, and had hoped like me as much, had decided he didn’t want to be with me after all. My parents were going through an awful divorce. And, I faced the daily battle of going to school in a place where I didn’t fit in.

It all felt like too much to handle, and I remember that Thursday night, alone in the house on Howard Street, as the tears flowed uncontrollably, and I truly felt that for the first time in my life, I had no one.

I walked from room to room, struggling to breathe, to exist…to find some shred of hope that things might turn around.

And then I grabbed my car keys. Strangely enough, that rusty, ’84 Olds felt more like home than anything else. And so I started it up and sat behind the wheel.

I’m not sure for how long.

I remember drumming my hands on the steering wheel and breathing deep before I slipped the car into reverse, backed out of my driveway, and headed toward the country. (In small-town Iowa, that phrase makes complete sense.) 😉

The tears and sobs continued to overtake my body as I drove on, feeling the pain seep into what seemed like every part of me.

I couldn’t understand how a person could hurt so much and still survive.

I remember thinking, No one will miss me.

And so I hit the gas a little harder and passed the turnoff to a friend’s house. And I just kept going.

Fifty became sixty and sixty became seventy, and the numbers continued to climb as my body shook (and probably my rusty, old car did, too) and my heart crumbled.

At that moment, I didn’t want to live anymore, and I was sure this was it.

I envisioned losing control, I looked for something to hit…I just wanted it to be over. And by all accounts, the way I was driving that night should have ended my life.

And then something happened.

I can’t explain it, and I don’t even really try to understand it.

It was a split second thought…an imagining, really…of what might be someday. And it suddenly didn’t make sense to throw it all away.

And so I let up my foot off the gas and slowed to within the speed limit, drove a little more, and turned around to head back toward town.

The tears didn’t stop, and the intense pain inside me didn’t let up…but somehow there was a renewed hope.

I’d grown up going to church, and I knew it all…and at that time, I wasn’t in the place to just stop and give it all up to God.

But that night…it was the beginning of something.

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It was the beginning of me knowing that I had value to Someone.

The hard truth is that there will be times in life when it feels that we matter to no one.

But we always, always matter to our Father.

And I can’t tie that awful night up into a pretty package and tell you some radical change overtook me in an instant. All I can tell you is that I know what it feels like to hit the deepest bottom possible…and then to feel the whisper of Hope.

And though it would be years before I even came close to understanding His love (heck, it’s still a daily thing for me), that night, I know without a doubt, was His whisper to me that I am loved, even when the rest of the world has let me down.

And so are you, friend.

You are loved, no matter what.

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It’s been almost 22 years since that cold, late-January night, and I still can’t think about it without tears welling up in my eyes.

That night, I almost took the pen away from the Writer of my story because I thought I knew better.

And if I could tell you one thing today, I’d tell you this:

You are loved, you have value, and God has plans for you. Good ones.

Don’t be afraid to let Him write your story and your dreams…the good and bad, the highest highs and the deepest valleys…because He can make them beautiful.

And He will.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

Shared by: Mel Schroeder

Stepping Back

October 26, 2016 By Mel Schroeder 6 Comments

I was so close to quitting it all. SO close.

Sometimes life has a funny way of telling us that’s the best thing, right?

Things were getting overwhelming and I felt, often, that I struggled to even keep my head above water. Between being a wife and a mama and now a NEW mama, six years later, who was re-entering the infant stage…let’s just say it was all becoming too much.

My house looked like a tornado had ripped through it, the dishes continually piled up, I couldn’t remember to actually finish a load of laundry in one day, and let’s not even talk about how many times I didn’t cook dinner…

AND? I was doing good to keep the kids (yes, kidS…plural now) fed and alive.

That’s how life felt two months ago when I messaged my dear friend, Alecia, and told her I needed a break from God-sized Dreams.

I was taking that oh-SO-much-needed break…but in the back of my mind, I wondered if it was a step toward being done with the site, too.

Between an extremely difficult pregnancy and, now, a brand-new baby boy…and trying to give everything I could to my family and life here, I didn’t feel like I had much to offer to other dreamers.

I felt guilty for pretending to live something I wasn’t actually living.

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It was a hard place to be.

And so I told her I needed to step back.

A confession? I completely thought this post would be my goodbye one…the one when I admitted I just didn’t have anything left to give and thanked you all for walking this journey with me.

But, today…

I’m so grateful that God gives us those moments of clarity when we choose to step back and seek Him.

Two months later, I feel alive again. (Well, as alive as the mama of a three-month old who’s still not sleeping through the night can feel…but we’ll go with it.) 😉

The last two months have been a lot of survival, most days, as I’ve navigated a life that has felt overwhelming at every turn.

But there have also been moments of peace. (aka: Naps from the baby boy. They’re AWESOME. Just in case you were wondering.) 😀

And in those moments, I’ve been intentional about sneaking away for prayer and some Bible reading. (Of course with a cup of coffee, because we’re being real here.) 😉 And some days it’s for thirty minutes, other days it’s ten.

But those moments feed my soul and bring me back to where my heart needs…and longs…to be.

I feel ready to dream again.

I’ll confess to y’all that I’m not sure my God-sized dreams, at the moment, extend beyond being a follower of Jesus and a mama, a wife and a friend…and a constant coffee-drinker…but I’m ok with that.

Sometimes He calls us to just be still and listen and live in Him.

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And when we do that? Well, He shows us what’s next.

I don’t know what that is.

But I know I still have dreams. Most of them include just being a good wife and mama and living out the calling He’s given me for this season. But there also might be other dreams, too, that are starting to creep in…the kind that look like a new book from a place in my heart I never thought I’d share. We’ll see. 🙂

I’m good with not knowing right now.

But what I DO know is that it feels good to be back…and to be ready to dream again.

Wherever y’all are in your dreaming season, know that it’s ok…and that if you continue to seek Him, God will show you exactly where He wants you to be.

He’s showing me…and I’m so, so thankful.

I’d love to say a prayer for you today…leave me a comment if there’s any way I can encourage you. 🙂

Shared by: Mel Schroeder

Broken…to Better

August 3, 2016 By Mel Schroeder 1 Comment

Fourteen years ago today…August 3, 2002…we said our I-do’s in a small Iowa church. It was a beautiful day for being the dead middle of a Midwest summer, and though it wasn’t a huge turnout, we both took the entire day as a blessing.

And anyway, I was so head-over-heels, I’d have married him anytime, anywhere…no matter who was or wasn’t there.

After pie and gummy bears in the church basement, because we’re totally classy like that, we jetted off to Jamaica for a week where we soaked up the sun and played an inordinate amount of beach volleyball, especially for a couple on their honeymoon.

😉

Coming home, we settled into routine. I’d landed a position as a nanny for a family near us, and he returned to his regular, salaried, perfect-at-the-time, job that was leading toward a career.

We’d bought a starter house, and life was good, even if the bathroom wasn’t quite finished yet. (Come to think of it, I’m not positive we ever DID completely finish that bathroom…) 😉

But it was home, and we couldn’t wait to see what the future held for us…two starry-eyed, practically-still-kids, who had such big dreams.

And then he called me at work one afternoon…less than a month into our marriage.

Honey, they laid me off.

What?!

And so began the first of many tests that would come up in our first years of marriage. Some people might call them broken dreams…and I might be one of those some.

Because, as newlyweds, our life together was shaken up so quickly that it felt like things crashed hard and fast.

The dreams we’d dreamed together…they felt so broken.

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And there were some long months of job searching before he landed something to help pay the bills, and that lasted for a few years, but we knew it wasn’t for good.

There was more…God wanted more from us…and we were sure of it.

So we prayed and followed what God was telling us to do, and we ended up moving to the opposite side of the globe. Indonesia became our home for five years, where we lived and worked and tried to make a difference. And while those years were wonderful, He spoke again, clearly, during that last year, and we knew it was time to go.

And that was hard, too. It sort of felt like another crashed dream as we watched life change and start to spin in a direction we hadn’t anticipated.

But, really, that was just leading to another dream, too…the kind that brought us to a new city in a new state. And in this place, we have learned the beauty of following in faith, of putting down roots, and of finding home. We’ve had two sweet kiddos and even set a record for the longest we’ve lived in one place.

We’ve found ways to dream brand new dreams…and God has found ways to turn the broken ones into better ones.

As I look back today and reflect on a really great fourteen years, with some really hard years thrown in there, too…I find myself so thankful that my Father sees dreams far beyond what I can. He knows, even when the days don’t turn out like I want them to, that He’s writing a story so much better than I could.

Each piece of each dream is held in His hand and is a part of His bigger plan.

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That lesson has meant a lot to me lately as I’ve thought about other dreams…the ones that don’t necessarily involve marriage but are still an important part of the journey.

The truth? Is that sometimes dreams end up broken.

And sometimes the journey takes a twist or a loop we aren’t expecting.

But He can still make it into something beautiful…it’s just up to us to follow Him and trust His plan for that beauty.

Tonight we’ll sneak out for dinner to celebrate our 14 years…and no doubt, we’ll probably end up talking about those first, especially-up-and-down, years. But we’ll also come back to the wonderful places He’s taken us because of those hard times.

And then we’ll end up looking forward, even more, to what He still has for us.

Happy Anniversary to my favorite person…and thanks for walking this journey with me. 🙂

Shared by: Mel Schroeder

Letting God Rewrite Your Dream

March 7, 2016 By Mel Schroeder 8 Comments

I always thought I’d be a mommy to two girls.

When I envisioned our future family, I saw my daughter, Mae, walking with her hand clasped tightly to another little girl’s.

It’s a precious image I’ve had in my head for a long time, but one I was afraid to verbalize.

In 2014, after a struggle to become pregnant, we found out we were expecting, and I was sure this was it.

My two girls.

Sadly, we miscarried that sweet little one, and I pushed that image far back into the corner of my brain…and my heart.

I felt like that dream was over, and it was one I grieved for a long time.

And then…surprise of surprises…we found out this past November that we were expecting again.

And I allowed that dream to take its place in the depths of my heart again.

I was sure.

My pregnancy with this one was nearly identical to my pregnancy with Maelie, other than the fact that I was even sicker. But everyone knows…sick = girl.

Oh, I wanted her to be a girl so badly.

We’d picked out her name. Hope Kristine.

And though there were nagging thoughts of, I think this might be a boy, I tried to stay positive.

God knew the desires of my heart, and I was sure He’d give them to me.

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But He didn’t.

A few weeks ago we found out that we are, in fact, expecting a BOY.

Despite the cuteness of his ultrasound picture, I cried. A lot. Like, weepy-with-constant-tears, a lot.

Not because I don’t love this baby, but because my dream of two little girls is over.

We know this is it. Physically, my body can’t handle another pregnancy. And I’m not young, either, so there’s that. And my family can’t endure another bout with Hyperemesis Gravidarum…that’s not fair to anyone.

I told my husband…My dream of another little girl to love died today. I’ll never have that.

And then I wept some more.

And I have to be honest with all of you…it’s taken time to grieve the loss of that dream and embrace the new one God is writing for us instead.

It’s not one I ever dreamed…I’m not gonna lie, I don’t have a clue what to do with a boy.

I don’t necessarily look forward to trucks and trains and baseball or two kiddos, six years separating them, of the opposite gender.

Truthfully, I’m facing a lot of fears right now. It feels safer to push them under the rug and never admit they’re there…but they are.

And yet July will come, and this pregnancy will end with a baby boy in my arms.

And I know I’ll fall in love, just like I did with my sweet Mae.

And I’ll look back at this and know completely that the dreams He’s writing…or rewriting…for me are better than anything I could ever come up with on my own.

Maybe you find yourself there today, my friend…struggling, hoping, wishing the dream would turn out like you want. Or, watching a dream being rewritten…and not knowing what to do or how to handle it all.

And yet…there’s hope when it all changes.

I can tell you that as I smile through the fluttery kicks I feel in my belly, in the weekly countdown (which needs to go faster!), and in the sweet anticipation of meeting this new little one who will, no doubt, change our family in amazing ways we can’t even picture right now.

So here’s to being a boy mom…to the trucks, the trains, the mud pies, and the adventures.

And here’s to our Father, who writes the greatest adventures of all. 🙂

And here’s to our Father, who writes the greatest adventures of all.

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Thank you, God, for that.

Shared by: Mel Schroeder

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Looking Back And Seeing The Blessings

December 28, 2015 By Mel Schroeder 6 Comments

Sometimes I’m mean, and I call myself a failure.

A big, ‘ol failure.

In thinking back to the beginning of 2015, I look at all the things I planned to do and accomplish and OH.

Failure.

And those of you who know me also know that I’m going somewhere with this. This is not really going to be a post about me throwing a huge, virtual pity party.

I promise. 🙂

As I thought about what to write about this month…and believe me, I thought about it a lot because it is…ahem…December 23^rd…and not early in the day either…

I realized that there are a lot of ways we can look back at a year.

As a writer who hasn’t done a whole lot of writing, that can feel like a bit of failure. I look at a blog that’s had weeks, sometimes a month, go by between posts, and I wonder what happened to all the words.

I battle deadlines like the deadliest plague…AHEM…and just wish that the words flowed like they used to.

Life looks so much different now, and here I am, staring down the end of another year and wondering what exactly happened during that year.

It can be depressing if I stay there…but then I catch myself and remember that the answer is: A LOT.

Sure, this year might not have turned out like I wanted or planned…but there was still a lot of good. There IS still a lot of good.

Because the story He’s writing is good.

Because the story He’s writing is good.

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Today I decided to make a list of the good from this year.

Another year…spent with my sweet family, of serving my Father, of living the life in front of me well (mostly), of amazing friends and community, of word-sharing when there are words, of coffee, of running, of loving the blessings I’ve been giving.

Of course, I could keep going…but it was so good for my heart to just look back…and look for the good.

We’ve walked another year together, sweet dreamer friends, and I wonder if maybe you feel just a little like I did when you look back. I’m sure you’ve seen success, and maybe you wish that other dreams had turned out differently.

Do you see failure or do you see blessings?

Let’s focus on our blessings…on all He has done this year.

Let’s focus on our blessings…on all He has done this year.

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Will you share with me in the comments? When you look back at 2015, what’s one thing that just makes you smile, that reminds you of God’s goodness in your life?

Thanks for being here. I’m looking forward to dreaming with you in 2016! 🙂

Shared by: Mel Schroeder