When Dreams Change

It was over a year and a half ago.  I saw her as she carried the weighty wooden box to the lobby and then sat down on the waiting bench, box in her lap, face in her hands.  She wept.  I could see her shoulders shaking.  The mother instinct in me wanted to run down the hall and hold her while she cried...but this was not my place and I had no idea what I could and couldn't do in this new place of "ministry".  Besides, it was a private moment and she had no idea someone saw her... But Someone always sees us.

Inside the box was the dust particles of a life lived by someone she cherished.  He was someone she had dreamt of spending her life with.  But sometimes the dream changes.

After gaining her composure, she got up and left the building, carrying the wooden box as if it held the most fragile of treasures, after all, it did.  Her dreams.

In every person's lifespan there are countless experiences as we move from one goal or dream to the next.  Sometimes the change is not welcomed.  Often the sudden shift can bring on waves of grief--which can run the gamut of emotions from a child's sadness for five minutes over a broken or lost toy, to one's deep depression for months and even years from the death of a loved one or loss of something so cherished that getting beyond it seems more like climbing Mt. Everest in a wheelchair.  Impossible.  Sometimes, to a child, that broken toy is their Mt. Everest.  They cannot imagine life without it.

On and on the life cycle of our dreams go tromping through, often wrecking havoc on our emotions and heart as we grow into adulthood. 

What we don’t expect by the time we reach adulthood is the loss of our dreams. Our plans.  It’s like we’re running with joy through the experiences we had looked forward to, only to run smack into a tree that grew out of nowhere.  

Of course, while none of us know exactly how long we will “live the dream”;  we do hope it will last for several years. 

I was the same way when we left Bolivia; crushed at the loss--overpowered by grief.  Yet to stay would be disastrous for my physical and emotional wellbeing.  I knew there was something wrong inside of me--but I didn't know exactly what.  The devil even tried to convince me the swelling in my throat/neck area was cancer returning.  

There were days I felt like the woman holding the box of dust. The cremains of something I was never sure how long it would last in the first place, but surely it would last longer than 16 months.  Cancer had delayed, but not stopped the journey, so to be leaving without an outward physical ailment seemed ludicrous--or at least to me.  There were parts of the leaving I can't talk about--as even that brings such sorrow to my heart to be reminded of what I saw as failure.

I had experienced loss before, dear grandparents, two grandchildren that never made it to this side of the womb, a sister, a close friend, a home and life expectations.  I remember even crying over a vehicle I had had for many years when it finally died beyond repair- it wasn’t a person- but it had been my prayer room, with the steering wheel serving as my altar where I poured myself out almost daily.  

However, I have learned there are other losses that can affect us just as deeply as the loss of a precious life.  There is a grieving part of the mission field that takes place when you leave the assignment.  I didn't know it at the time--but it was something I was actually experiencing before we ever left...on top of all the unknown medical issues I was feeling and walking through.  I knew there was something going on in me because I didn’t feel like “me”.  Have you ever been there? 

For most people, depression causes them to want to stay in bed, covers over their head and not come out to see the day.  Sometimes since being home I've felt the same way.  

But while in Bolivia, almost every single morning I woke while the stars still twinkled.  The most beautiful times of the morning were just before the sun began to rise.  I cherished this time with the LORD.  I often opened the window in my prayer room/office of our seventh floor apartment and leaned out to peer down into the now hushed streets below.  No horns beeping or party sounds from the neighborhood--they were all tucked in asleep.  But not me.  

I was having so much trouble sleeping.  My eyes were looking empty to me when I looked in the mirror.  I couldn't figure out why-until a few months had passed and I had to go home.  Panic attacks and what I later learned was some PTSD issues from unresolved--unhealed areas of my life.  

I never knew one could have PTSD that involved anything other than serving in war times.  I just didn't count the war-times I had experienced since the early 1990's.  Spiritual warfare can be crippling--and I made the mistake of not looking after my own emotions, heart and health.  Instead, I focused on the healing of another.   I won't call all of it spiritual warfare; contrarily, part of it was a battle within my own heart and mind.  I was constantly giving myself a beating that no one knew about.  

On a morning walk with a friend, which seemed to be one of the few things that kept me from completely collapsing in a heap of the deepest depression I had ever known, she shared with me a situation in her life, that after the first time she encountered it, every time she even thought it was about to happen again, she panicked.  A full blown internal meltdown occurred and she felt helpless to stop it.  

By the time she finished sharing her story, it was as if a lightbulb went off in my head; this is what was happening to me and I never knew what, how or why.  I felt tied to the iron track and the big train was bearing down on me with the Engineer pulling on the whistle to get me off the track.  My feet couldn't move--because my heart was in a state of PTSD meltdown.

Today, I can say I'm much better in many ways.  My pre-cancer physical strength hasn't totally returned, and it may never be fully restored, but I'm so much stronger than I was.  

The LORD has taken me on quite an unexpected journey--and I've had to realize, the "dream" lasted for the time He chose.  He's strengthened me to endure so much in the past, that I know without a doubt, He would have moved on my behalf in order for me to have stayed longer.  

As I spent the first few hours of almost every single day in Bolivia with Him, I knew some shift was happening as I prayed, read and wrote in my prayer journal.  I was unaware of the outcome of Him rearranging the pieces of the puzzle to change the picture.  I thought it was going to be one thing... I even had all the future details mapped out to what would please me--and surely if it pleased me-it would please Him...after all, it was FOR HIM.  But I was wrong.

I remember clearly making a statement many years ago to someone how neat it would be to live in different places for a short season to experience life in the way they did.  To photograph and write about it.  Well, years later, without me even realizing it happened, I did just that.  We lived in Costa Rica for eight months, seven of which were the rainy season (I think there are 11 months of rain there); and we lived eight months in Bolivia.  We experienced many things in both places and I heard from the Holy Spirit more in those 16 months than I ever had before.  You might even say, that is where I learned to really listen.

The dream changed.  Somewhere along the way--my focus turned from what I wanted--to what He wanted, even if it meant it would look like failing to others.

We will talk more about that another day.  There are pages and pages about this journey in my prayer journals.  My hope and trust is in Him.  Not in my plans or dreams.  He holds the puzzle pieces and lays each one down at just the right time.  I have no doubt that the next one to lay down will be just a purposeful as the ones He laid down the day we said "yes" to Him.

© Angie Knight 

BECAUSE of His great mercy He has given us new birth into a LIVING HOPE through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you. 1 Peter 1:3-4 HCSB (emphasis mine)

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