The day is still dark.
The rain is still coming down.
I am up while the rest of the house sleeps: I should be sleeping too.
I definitely went to bed too late.
I’m facing my white wall, but today I am enjoying it. I’m enjoying its simplicity. I’m enjoying the ability to dream it to be whatever I want it to be.
Or I might keep it white. Just to remember.
This morning my coffee tastes extra great. I brew it now at 3am, so as not to wake the toddler.
The crunching and grinding of the beans doesn’t seem to bother her at that time — it wakes her at 5.
I learned that the hard way.
I still think about what I want to be when I grow up. I often wish there were 6 of me, so I wouldn’t have to choose.
Does anyone else think that way? Just me? Okay.
I changed my major a few times during college.
Well, I should clarify: I officially changed it a few times, but in my head I probably changed it every semester.
These choices varied from pre-med to psychology to exercise science to studio art.
[I told you God has a sense of humor.]
But looking back, there is one consistency for me in all of these choices. One consistent thread when I think about how I wanted to utilize each choice.
I want to encourage others to dream.
And not just dream, but accomplish those dreams.
I don’t have answers to how. I haven’t figured out where and when. I know God has wired me this way. I just want to listen. I want to encourage. I want to see smiles of confidence.
I want to see dreams take flight.
And then somehow? I need to listen to my own encouragement. I need to listen to the encouragement of others. I need to listen to His still small voice.
I need to believe that my dreams are worth it too.
I need to believe that He can use me–yes, even silly me.