“Lord, watch over our dreams”

Most days, it would be completely honest to say I have no idea what I want.

Do I want to live in Boston? Or on a small farm in North Georgia?

Will I spend the rest of my life chasing success in the art world? Or will I leave it all behind?

For so long, I thought that figuring out what I wanted was the hardest part.

But what are you supposed to do when you finally see it?

You know, the dream, the future that somehow becomes the one thing you know for certain you want.

Our dreams can start to feel fragile when we feel as though we are the ones holding them. It is a scary thing to hope, dream, for something when there’s a possibility that it won’t happen. Perhaps there is a solace in not knowing what we want, for it is only then that we are protected from the possibility of dreams not coming true.

This is my confession, the mask that I’ve been hiding behind as I try to hold my dreams in the same hands that never once had control. By denying my dreams, I have been denying what it means to be human.

I do know what I want!

I want to be in love.

I want to live in the same city as my friends.

I want to write books and create different art.

I want to be a mother, a safe home.

I want to learn about complex things.

My friend Sydney Carroll once prayed, “Lord, watch over our dreams.”

I’m starting to believe that He does just that.

It could be Boston, or Georgia, or fame, or ordinariness — as long as the table is set and chairs are filled with warm bodies. As long as my hands get to be busy with giving and creating. As long as the Lord of all dreams holds us through it all.