Broken Dreams

Yesterday, Andy Stanley preached live at Buckhead Church, beginning a new series titled “Boulevard of Broken Dreams.” Andy addressed the fact that we all have dreams that simply will not come true – either because of choices that we’ve made or choices someone else made. It could be the dream of death do us part or of biological children or of a certain job or a certain kind of life. And many times we blame God – couldn’t He have healed my marriage? Couldn’t He have healed my body and given me a child? So the question becomes: What do we do about all of that?
I have a lot of dreams that didn’t come true, and many more that won’t. I won’t be a young mother. I will spend the rest of my life traveling between different households, my family forever fractured. I wasn’t debt free at 30. And there are so many dreams that have yet to reveal themselves: will I get pregnant? Will we qualify for adoptions? Will I ever step foot on Indian soil? Will we die an old couple, 50 years of marriage behind us?
And what do we do when our dreams are shattering before us? We lean hard into the one who controls it all! Andy used the metaphor of canoing: when your canoe is about to tip over, you don’t grab the sides to steady yourself; instead, you hit your knees, bringing the canoe back to center.
When chaos makes life unstable, you hit your knees to come back to center.
When we were both still single, my friend Melissa and I discussed marriage quite a bit. We talked about what our lives would look like if we were to be the ones chosen to live out our lives as single women, our lives available for nothing but service. But there was always that flicker in my heart that told me that I would marry, simply because I didn’t put that desire in my heart; He did. It’s the same reason I know I will be somebody’s mother; I just don’t know the details – the how, when or who. (Or how many!)
So yesterday when Andy asked if there was anyone out there whose dream didn’t come true, I didn’t put my hand up. Yes, I have dreams that didn’t come true. Yes, there are things and situations I have mourned – and have yet to mourn. And yet, look at the dreams I didn’t even DARE to dream that have been fulfilled. I feel like much of my life is a picture of God’s faithfulness. His provision is vast and His mercy is great.
I am wicked and I deserve death. And yet I live.
My sin, not in part but whole, is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more.(“Well With My Soul,” Horatio Spafford)

Psalm 43

1 Vindicate me, O God,
and plead my cause against an ungodly nation;
rescue me from deceitful and wicked men.
2 You are God my stronghold.
Why have you rejected me?
Why must I go about mourning,
oppressed by the enemy?
3 Send forth your light and your truth,
let them guide me;
let them bring me to your holy mountain,
to the place where you dwell.
4 Then will I go to the altar of God,
to God, my joy and my delight.
I will praise you with the harp,
O God, my God.
5 Why are you downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.
I have new appreciation for the book of Psalms these last few days. Every human emotion – laments, praises, prayers – is captured within it. A human cry to the ear of our creator Himself. Sometimes I feel like I have too much to pray for; too many people for whom I plead intervention. And when I have no words – when the struggle feels too great or His mercy too much – I know it’s all been felt before me and I go to the Word and pray the prayers of my ancestors, my brethren.

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