When I was a little girl, I dreamed of being a Dallas Cowboy’s cheerleader. I thought they were the prettiest women in the world, and their routines mesmerized me. I spent countless hours in the living room practicing dance routines with my sister and rotating cast of friends.
As a young adult, I dreamed of being a Bible teacher and speaker like Beth Moore or Pricilla Shirer. I pictured myself speaking to thousands. When opportunities came to speak at local women’s conferences, I jumped at them. I even wrote and led my own multi-week Bible study on the women of the Scripture.
In my forties, I dreamed of helping authors get published and discovered. I started a micro-publishing company and imagined guiding authors straight onto the New York Times Bestseller list. This dream even included purchasing property in Costa Rica for a writing retreat where we could escape and write.
I have dreamed some big dreams in my lifetime, but none of them came true. And, I am grateful.
Not so big dreams
Along the way, I held quieter dreams too. When I was a teenager, I wanted to become a youth pastor. When I was a young mom, I imagined approaching the local newspaper to write a column filled with life lessons and inspirational anecdotes. In my forties, I wanted to move to the city and start a new career for the second act of my life.
These mid-sized dreams did unfold, each in their own way. Recently, after more than two years of study and preparation, I was commissioned as a lay pastor. About eight years ago, my newspaper editor let me try writing a few columns to see if I was a good fit, and I’ve been writing a weekly reflection ever since. And even without moving to the city, I still found a new career. It’s funny how life works out exactly as it should.
But here’s what surprised me: none of these dreams compare to the week I just spent with my adult children, grandchildren, and family. We simply spent time together under one roof. We laughed, talked, played, created, and debated: all of it weaving connection through every shared moment. All I wanted was to stay fully present and enjoy every moment, because deep in my heart I knew those moments are truly what dreams are made of.
When the week ended, I climbed into my car alone while everyone else jumped into vehicles with parents, partners, siblings, children, and family. In that quiet drive home, I realized I’ve imagined a hundred different lives. I spent years chasing big dreams, but the life I love the most grew quietly out of love, family, and small, sacred moments of connection and gratitude.