For as long as I can remember I’ve been a dreamer.   A simple seed of thought will turn into a realm of exploration that would make my ordinary day into a realm of impossibility that only imagination could create.  Like a castaway on a cloud my mind will wander to and fro with the wind transforming every simple hobby or passion into a creative possibility rather than a passing thought.

As an adult, the dreamer inside of me took a backseat. I became increasingly aware of the circumstances that surround me.  Even as these dreams have changed shape, I find the childlike ability in me to believe gave way to my shortcomings and deficiencies.  Disappointments and the repeated experience of such has a way of wrapping itself around a person’s heart, limiting the beating of their heart to a slow hum and a whisper against the loud shout of pure logic.  The wisdom of Solomon led him to the conclusion that it is a hope deferred that makes the heart sick, but it is a desire fulfilled that becomes a tree of life (Proverbs 13:12).

More recently I have been asking myself the question “What if bold faith meant to dream again?”  What if following the ranks of men and women of old who have accomplished great things means to awaken the sleepy dreamer inside of me and dare to believe? I would propose that while our feet need to move, that it is in essence our heart and its ability to believe in what God can dream of that will take us to achieve the impossible.

Chapter five in the gospel of Mark takes us through the story of a young ruler of the synagogue who comes to Jesus in a panic after his daughter has died.  Though everyone around him is in agreement of her sentence of death and urges him not to bother Jesus with something that cannot be fixed, Jesus’ only reply to the distressed father is:

“Do not fear, only believe”
(Mark 5: 36)

It is in these words that I find comfort.   That in the middle if this young ruler’s pain and broken heart, Jesus spoke the instructions that would lead to a miracle.  Jesus’ next words to the mourners outside the girl’s door are a simple declaration to a defeated heart: “The child is not dead, but sleeping” (Mark 5:39).

How many of us are walking life with dreams that have been buried in the ground with a declaration of death decorating its gravestone? As I walk into this next season of my life with impossibilities surrounding me, it is Jesus’ simple invitation to the sleeping daughter to arise that stirs in me a faith to believe again.  It is a not a belief anchored upon the reality of my dreams coming to pass, but a hope and faith in the One who is who He says He is. It’s a call to rise and see circumstances from the perspective of the Father declaring over our hopes and dreams to come alive.

It is a scary thing to believe again.  But as I sit, a girl unknown in a small corner of the world, the dreamer inside of me has awakened.  What was once gray has blossomed forth in the boldness of color and even though this is a beginning and that I may seem still small and insignificant to the world – I know that over me, roars a lion and that in my heart, grows a garden.

 

Writer’s Bio:
Rebecca Young is an aspiring writer, entrepreneur, dreamer, and all around adventurer.  Her past life has been working with women in recovery and her future life is an open book.  

Blog: http://urloveismazing.tumblr.com