All day at work I thought about those seedling pecan trees I wrote about this morning: what if we had assumed they were dead and mowed them? We’d never have known the difference. We’d never have realized we killed living trees.
So I got to wondering, Aren’t dreams a lot like that? You nurture your hopes and dreams, praying they’ll come to fruition, and then so much time goes by, you give up on them. You just know they’re dead, that there’s not a chance on earth that those dreams could come true. And you bury them.
But what if they weren’t dead, only sleeping until the right time? What if you murdered them because of your lack of patience?
Like most little girls, I used to beg for a pony. I cried and I prayed; my parents pointed out that you can’t have a horse in town, but that made no sense to me... we had a huge yard! I wrote to Santa, in hopes he’d see things my way. Back then you could buy Shetland ponies from the Wards and Sears Catalogues, and I wore those pages out looking. I grew, and we moved to Kansas City. By that time I was old enough to realize my dream of a pony could not possibly come true. And I forgot about it.
Fast-forward some twenty years. My husband and I bought 20 acres in the country (another dream I had long ago squelched) and somebody knew somebody that had a horse for sale for $100. That was Ginger, the first of many horses I’ve had along the way. I’ve fully enjoyed every one in its own time and in its own way.
The trouble is, when so much time passes between the planting of a dream and the day it finally blossoms into something real, you forget that it WAS a dream, if you’re not careful.
So today, thanks to a couple of little seedling trees, I took count of all the dreams-come-true I’ve experienced and thanked a loving God, to Whom time is no barrier.
Please don’t give up on your dreams; there may still be life there!