Dream Killer

For some time I have been contemplating “dreams”, not the ones that stimulate your mind when you sleep, but the others.

By dreams, I mean your longings, what you want from life. More specifically, what the individual wants from your time here in the temporal. I dare say, most sane people want the afterlife to be something of pleasantness, if they desire one at all.

Therefore, to make our travel from one end to the other, we dream. Since, it would be speculative at best to understand the dreams of someone else, I furrowed up and down my dreams for a while and would like to, if I may, distract you for a moment.

When I was much younger I dreamed all the time. Each day I would dream, heck I would dream continually. What would I do today, tomorrow, or perhaps the rest of the week? Dreams of being a professional player in either baseball or football, knowing that basketball dreams were a complete waste of time due to my vertical challenges. My imagination running as wild as my bare feet would take it, I could envision myself doing anything. Who did not want to be the President, saving the world from all it ills? Perhaps at one point I wanted to be a doctor, lawyer, fisherman, musician, or Marine. Endless were, and are childhood dreaming.

However, when you become an adult dreams take on a unique and special tangible constant. How you apply, or don’t apply your dreams have an outcome. They have an affect on you, and those around you. What if your dreams don’t workout, or are to begin with foolish. Don’t say that there are no foolish dreams, because there are and they can devastate.

So, over my life I have had many dreams, the writing of this blog would be one. To have an avenue of communication outside myself: a way for the whole world to hear my voice, if only in words written in print and pixels. A dream of immorality like countless others. However, at this point in my dreamland, my written words don’t pay the bills, and that is where reality can bring an end to wonderful dreams.

In the need to feed oneself, and the progeny that God has so well gifted, my dreams have been moved, or changed depending on the needs of the little birds that feed from the nest with which God has provided. In essence, my dreams have been “killed” in order to provide for something I value much more than my dreams. They are my little dream killers, and God be glorified that I have everyone of them, even the ones God has seen fit to call into His complete provision.

Now here is the beauty in the killing of a dream for a more noble purpose. In the death of my dreams, like a seed planted, I get the pleasure of burying my dreams in order that those more beautiful than I, can perhaps see theirs blossom into beautiful flowers one day. How wonderful it is to be a dream killer! How amazing it is to turn from dreamer, to the dream granter!