How to Live Out Hope with Our Dreams

Dear friends, it’s been awhile for very good reasons. I’ve just had my second high school senior year as a mom. If any of you have asked me for senior year advise, I’ve told you to resign and decline from all the extras before this very unique year begins. Senior year as a mom is like having a part time job of the heart, mind and mom (man) power. For that reason, I resigned and declined from my writing to you in this season.

New Thoughts About Dreams

Now, I come to you with some new words. I’m sharing a poem or perhaps better described as prose that I wrote one night in between texting with my beloved sisters. I am sure you have a similar band of sisters. We keep in touch by text and by meeting every two months or so for a pow-wow as deep as the sea. 

I was the one of the sisters who was letting a child go. Because they know the feel of this season, they served me compassionately like a was a new mom finding her way. Soon before my daughter graduated, I had a wave of grieving. Good Lord, for so many reasons. In that time, I wrote a poem called, Just Like That – – which became one of the gifts I gave to my daughter as she moved into her new college season.

I’ve written about dreams over the years, including a bunch about dreams dying. For a person of faith, it may not sound like the most likely topic. I am extraordinarily grateful to embrace a philosophy that offers the utmost hope. I’ve also lived long enough to know that beauty from ashes treads a lot of pain. Dreams dying is a space of vulnerability and authenticity for me. I have to talk and write about it. I have a few new things to say.

The Story of Senior Year (In Part)

My daughter was badly injured during a dance performance ten days before her college auditions began for about ten fine arts programs. She was unable to dance for about two months and then quickly had to audition in the Spring for almost all the schools in a short span of time. 

Many of you know that my son had an injury his junior year of high school that ended his plan for college sports. My daughter’s injury immediately felt like another dream dying. We have these moments where our heads feel like they are being spun around in the washing machine with all we know to be true but having no understanding of which truth will be true in this set of circumstances. 

Dreams dying applies to a future you thought you would have and even worked very hard for. Dreams dying applies to relationships that look differently than you had hoped or planned for. Dreams dying applies to shifted plans and unexpected courses fueled by sin and choices that you don’t have control over. 

In the months that my daughter recovered and continued her path, I prayed scripture as I walked around my neighborhood. Really just one scripture specifically. Over and over. 

May the God of Hope fill you with joy and peace so that you may overflow with Hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Romans 15:13

When Dreams Die

Dreams die a few times in a lifetime. We are not privy to outcomes in the thick of the difficulties of this life. This particular scripture was central for me because it excluded circumstance and outcome. Romans 15:13 directed me to my prayer for hope because God does not disappoint even when He doesn’t speak to life our dream the way we imagine it. The road to hope appears to be Joy and Peace, as we choose to believe in Him. So I asked for that too as I invited the Holy Spirit to overflow me with Hope. 

Isn’t that the real answer when all may be lost? Lord, give me Joy & Peace so that Hope may come by the power of the Holy Spirit. And, while God is the God of Love, this scripture tells us that God is also the God of Hope. That truth became so real to me. When it feels dark, He is not just there to love us in the moment but to give us the gift of Hope. We have the sustaining gift of Hope separate and apart from circumstances and outcome. 

What Shall We Do When Dreams Die?

The following encouragement comes from a continuing conversation with one of my sisters. We believe that moms especially need to know the Gift of Hope when it comes to dreams of your child and for your child. Over a lifetime of mothering, some of these dreams will shift even when you do not wish for it. Some will be delayed and it will hurt. Some will not be as you imagined and there will be pain in the loss. 

Dear sisters, prepare your hearts for this. If you don’t know your Lord as your God of Hope, some of these dying dreams could crush you. The dark side will try to use a delayed or shifted dream to kill a handful of other dreams that didn’t need to fall out. What shall we do?

In the thick of the mess, there is a higher calling to love like and hope like your Jesus. You will need to mirror Him over and over again in the holy ways of love and hope that make no sense to this world. You can choose love and hope even when you think all is lost. You can choose love and hope when your heart is breaking and there is no apparent return for the Christlike path. You can choose love and hope in your pain while you walk a road you didn’t plan for. My sister, you can choose love and hope by endurance and the encouragement of sisters and scripture. These are God’s promises. Romans 15:4-5. Love and hope is our only hope. 

Just Like That, Seasons Change

The title of my poem is Just Like That. The poem is about fighting and believing again and again until Just Like That, the season changes.

My daughter’s season did change. God miraculously allowed her to have a number of spectacular auditions with many open doors. Her story is not over with dance or outside of dance. Her story will be her own hike with Jesus through mountains and valleys with the most gorgeous views from both sides. I’m not the author of her journey, but I will gladly be in her periphery offering love and hope in every season. Until Just Like That, the season changes. 

Just Like That

Nothing can separate you from the love of Christ.
You are worth more than many sparrows.
You are beautiful.
Never give up.
Let go.
Become.
Keep going.
The sun will rise.

You are chosen.
It’s going to be okay.
Beauty comes from ashes.
Put on the full armor of God.
Cast your cares on Him.
Trust that He’s figuring it out.

You are loved.
The joy of the Lord is your strength.
Feel deeply.
Enter into peace.
Be courageous.
Fight.
Scripture is being fulfilled.

Let the light run wild.
Stand up to the boisterous sea.
Tell God’s truth.
God is within you.
Change the narrative.
Clear the path.
Be made new.
Rise again.

He is near.
The best is yet to come.
Fan the flame.
Try again.
Make up your mind to persevere.
Get unstuck.
Grace will catch you.
This is your moment.

You are more precious than rubies.
Dwell in what you do have.
Be patient.
Express authenticity.
Be brave again and again.
Remember the fullness of summer.
Love with your whole heart.
And, just like that, the season changed.

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Time Well Spent

At first I thought it was too late. But then I decided it wasn’t.

Happy Mother’s Day my dear sisters.

This is to all of you – whether spiritual mothers or birth mothers.

We are all mothers.

I’ve noted a few things in PRISON – which is what my grandma calls this season. Don’t judge her. She’s 89 on the 18th floor of a high rise. Her primary therapy is walking the isles of Publix several days a week. She’s had no therapy in months.

I’ve noted a few things in quarantine.

My friend C feels the aloneness. On her weeks without her kids, she misses face to face friendship and community.

My friends C & N long for summer. They work during sleeping hours and sit at the screen with their six year olds from 8 to 3.

Many of my friends cherish time with kiddos normally at college.

My mom let her dad go from afar. He passed away in the nursing home without her. She had been mothering him for the last few years.

I took a drive to Orlando with my mom for a doctor’s appointment. After a day away, I stood in my last stop before bed with hot water raining down on my body.

I thought, Dear God, what do you say of today?

The words came pouring down from heaven clear as day.

Time Well Spent.

I’ve noted a few things in quarantine.

Much of what we do as spiritual and birth mothers can be described as listening quietly to the Spirit’s tug.

What does this spiritual or birth child need to flourish?

The ministry comes in many forms. The ministry is squarely tailored upon what only a spiritual or birth mother knows.

  • Language of love
  • Interpretation of hidden emotion
  • Timing of encouragement
  • Measure of discipleship

May I tell the truth we already have tucked in our soul?

This is the Ministry of Time Well Spent.

There are more to these words than I am able to tell in this space.

I’ve learned Confidentiality from four teachers:

Aslan tells the Boy (in the Horse and His Boy) that he cannot tell another’s story. It is theirs alone to know such mysteries.

Annie Downs (in her book Looking For Lovely) leaves out the part of the journey that she has not been released to tell.

My two oldest friends corrected my character many years ago. You don’t tell what is not yours to share.

The Rules of Professional Conduct tell me confidentiality can only be breached if there is danger to the person or a crime in the works.

None of these apply here. Sometimes the truth of a matter can be expressed without the facts of the story included.

The quarantine has taught me again the meaning of Time Well Spent.

Spiritual and birth mothers, let’s be in tune to the Ministry of Time. It is ours to give. Perhaps it is our greatest gift received and our greatest gift to give.

In my own little corner of the world kind of way, I crown you, spiritual and birth mothers. Wear your crown well as you lead those that have been given to you.

End your days asking God, what do you say of today?

Let the words come pouring down from heaven clear as day.

Time Well Spent.

Love,

Your Soul Sister Sasha

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