The dream we choose to pursue will, of necessity, direct our focus…

The dream we choose to pursue will, of necessity, direct our focus.

I believe in the power of dreams. As a teacher, I want children to dream big dreams for their futures. As a pastor, I want our church to dream big — to dream of the many ways that God can use us to reach our world. As a mother, I’ve tried to instill huge dreams — no, enormous, gargantuan dreams in my boys.

I believe in the power of dreaming, of dreaming big, of dreaming beyond our ability to accomplish the dream; I believe in the power of that kind of dream.

I don’t want people to dream dreams and then wait for them to magically appear before them already fulfilled. I want people to dream dreams, to count the cost, and to run full-tilt toward the fulfillment of their most powerful desire.

But first, I want them to dream carefully. For me — for mine, that means that I want them to dream the dream that God has placed within them. As they dream that kind of a dream, as they pursue the dream that comes from that source, THEN I believe there can be success. There can be victory. A dream fulfilled. A life changed. A better world.

But even more than these things, there will be growth.

You see, a person who dreams a God-sized dream will need to count the cost; they will need to pay the price.

Everyone makes choices. These choices are a part of paying the price — of counting the cost. I wanted to be a wife and a mom, but I also wanted to sing. I had to choose. I could not have the kind of life that a professional singer lives and still have a successful marriage and be the kind of mother I knew I needed to be. There was a cost. I was willing to pay the price for the dream I prized more highly.

Athletes pay the price daily for their dream. They train and make healthy choices. Decisions are made to get out of bed and take that run or go to the gym — this is part of paying the price, of counting the cost for their dreams.

Things worth having are worth the cost.

We are like many others in the world today — we have student debt. For us, the cost was worth it to pursue our dream of ministry and for me to pursue my dream to also be a teacher.

These were both God-sized dreams that had been placed in our hearts. They were costly dreams. Even now, there are still costs. We don’t own a home — we live in the home that is provided for us — and we are thankful for these homes, whatever and wherever they may be. Someday we will retire and we will not have a nest in which to spend our retirement years — unless we buy one, that is. Oh yes, that is another dream with a price attached.

For many young people, some within our family, the cost of pursuing their dream — college — has precluded their involvement in the events and activities that will allow them to actually achieve their dream. For many, the cost is simply too high. Others have completed, or nearly completed, the training and education necessary to pursue the dream, but because of the circumstances of our economy and our world, they cannot afford to pay for the cost of the dream. Or, to pay for the dream, they must sacrifice the time that our generation spent “paying our dues” to be able to achieve the dream. My heart breaks for those who find themselves in this kind of a position.

It seems to be an impossible situation. And for them, I know that it is.

But I still believe in dreaming.

I still believe in paying the cost for the dream.

As a sophomore in high school, I attended a small, private, Christian high school in New Mexico. It was started by two teachers in an old Lutheran church. By every stretch of the imagination it was a dream that should not have succeeded. Yet today, it is a thriving Christian School with its own campus and hundreds of students.

At our first chapel service, I looked at the front of the room and saw a felt banner that read, “Attempt something so big that unless God is in it, it is doomed to fail.” That, my friends, is the definition of a God-sized dream.

We cannot let the cost of a dream keep us from dreaming. We must seek to dream — to dream big, huge, gigantic, enormous dreams.

We NEED God-sized dreams. For by dreaming them, by pursuing them, and by following Him, we become more like Him. Our faith grows. He does things we never could have imagined. And as a result, the world is forever changed.

Dreams are costly; we should dream on.

We recently spent a few days in Northern Minnesota. Our headquarters for the trip was in Duluth and our hotel was a block away from Lake Superior. In fact, if the room had been on the other side of the hall we would have been able to look out our window and see the Lake from our room. Well, sort of.

We arrived in Duluth on a Friday afternoon. As we crossed the bridge from Wisconsin to Minnesota, we noticed that the Lake had white caps — not what we had hoped to see. A storm was brewing. We found our hotel, checked in, and found some supper at Perkins where we tried to look at the Lake. Sadly, the Lake was shrouded in fog.

On Saturday, we visited the harbor area where there are three lighthouses, a fog horn, and a museum. We enjoyed the museum and walked around outside in Canal Park. It was a cool, foggy, fall day. Later, we drove along the water’s edge and saw what we could see. There were times when the fog lifted a bit or thinned out some, but for the most part the view was obscured.

Sunday was a different day. We awakened to a few clouds but most of the fog was gone. We were headed north to the beautiful Split Rock Lighthouse, and farther still to Grand Marais. It was beautiful — perfect, in fact. The sun was shining, the water was smooth, and some autumn leaves were beginning to appear. We enjoyed familiar sights and new ones. At the end of the day we were tired; however, we felt rested and blessed to have enjoyed the beauty of God’s creation.

I’ve thought a lot about that weekend. We had piled a huge number of expectations onto those few days. They were our vacation for this past year and we had planned to visit a couple of different museums — one was closed for the season. I had intended to sit in the sun and enjoy the sea gulls, the sights, and the sounds of the water. Instead, we found a 7 mile long, fog covered beach, about a million sea gulls (okay, that might be an exaggeration), and we saw some familiar sites from a different perspective. We had planned to head to the far northern Minnesota shore of Lake Superior — and we are thankful that we did. But, with so many expectations denied due to the fog, the vacation started with me feeling a little let down.

In fact, I even prayed that the fog would lift on Saturday and we would be able to do what we had planned. But God had a different plan. And that made me ask myself, how many times have God’s plans been different from the ones I had?

“Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.” Proverbs 19:21, NIV

My plan — a dozen kids; God’s plan — three amazing boys (Thank you, God — I really didn’t need a dozen!) My plan — to be doctor; God’s plan — to be a teacher and preacher instead. My plan — to be a country singer; God’s plan — to sing in worship and praise.

Obviously my plans are flawed; His are better.

The weekend in Minnesota reminded me that sometimes we think we are seeing clearly, but really we are not. The trouble with fog is that it obscures what we see — and sometimes, it obscures what we know. As we drove along the Lake’s edge, we knew there was water there. At times, however, the fog was so incredibly thick that we couldn’t see the water. Were we to have gone simply based on what we could see at that moment, we could have gotten ourselves into trouble.

I think spiritual fog can cause the same sort of disorientation, confusion, and yes… potential trouble.

The real trouble with fog is that we think we can “make out” what is around us. We use the fog lights so the light doesn’t reflect back into our eyes, we watch the fog line as we drive, we note those land marks that appear vaguely before us and we think we know where we are. But sometimes, it just isn’t so.

I’ve driven to work several mornings in very thick fog, and as a result, I lose my place in the journey. I’ve driven the road often enough that I’m confident I know what comes next in the road — what lies around the next bend. Fog messes with my head and there are times when I feel lost.

I’ve experienced foggy days in my spirit, in my relationship with God too.

On some of these days He is leading and guiding and speaking and I am not following, not listening. As a result, I experience spiritual fog. These days could also be the days when I am in a hurry and He is not. When I rush ahead of Him, I experience spiritual fog. It’s almost as though I’ve outpaced the light from the torch lighting my way.

Experience proves that if I wait — the fog lifts. It’s true in Duluth and it’s true in my spirit. I need to let Him guide, I need to listen to Him — I need to wait for Him to lift the fog. I need to live for His purpose, I need to pursue it and sometimes, I need to wait for it.