I have big dreams.
Big scary dreams.
Always have. Years ago a friend said I reminded her of Joseph. A dreamer who is often misunderstood. For a while I had Gen. 37:19 (Here comes that dreamer) tacked to my computer. I’ve lost the post-it note with the scripture on it, but I haven’t lost the dreams.
They’re still there.
Lately my dreams have felt like sand. Big and vast yet slipping through my fingers. I feel like I can’t grab hold of anything. Like the harder I try to hold on to it the more it slips away. It’s exhausting, this grasping at sand. I’m working myself into a frenzy trying to fill my bucket.
But dreams weren’t meant to be carried in buckets. Dreams are meant to carry us. They are the path we walk upon.