Listen for His Whisper

By Paula Williamson guest writer

Shattered Dreams

I don’t know where on earth I got some of my dreams and perceptions about life, and what it would be like, but I had them—and I believed they were simple and attainable. I dreamed I would marry a man who loved me, and the things I loved, and that we would be there for one another through thick and thin. We would have a little house with a white picket fence, just like the one I drew in grade school, and all the children would have smiling faces. I dreamed of my husband arriving home each day with candy and roses, grabbing me in his arms, wanting to hear every detail of my day. That was dead dream number one.

I dreamed my children would always be happy and love me because I was such a wonderful mother. Of course, they would never be in trouble, drink, do drugs, or do anything wrong. They would go to college, marry the mates of their dreams—who had been carefully trained by yet another perfect mother—and go off to homes with white picket fences of their own. They would have wonderful lives and perfect children. That was dead dream number two.

I assumed the house with the white picket fence—and all that came with it: furniture, appliances, carpeting, windows, plumbing, air-conditioning, lawn mower, and car—would never break because we took such good care of them. Surely, they would last forever or at least come with a lifetime guarantee. Dead dream number three.

I dreamed we would all go to a perfect little church where everyone loved each other, spoke kindly, and stayed there forever serving the Lord. Dead dream number four.

I dreamed of the perfect job that provided the perfect living, ended before dinner, and sent us home fresh as a daisy after a good day’s work—ready to spend the rest of the day in bliss with the ones we loved. Dead dream number five.

I dreamed my soul mate and I would never fight, and neither would our children, because our home was so filled with love. Dead dream number six.

I also must have dreamed I could fix all our favorite foods, eat all the desserts and candy my parents never allowed, enjoy the box of chocolates my darling brought home—and never gain any weight. That would be dead dream number… I’m losing count.

Now, I have had many other dreams, and most are in the cemetery with their number on them. But where in the world did, I get these ideas? I know I didn’t consciously dream them up, but I felt the reality of a broken dream crashing down in my heart when things didn’t measure up to what I thought they would be. Each failed dream was a terrible realization and a major hurdle for me to get over.

I don’t think I had even been married one week when my first dream crashed. We had just moved into the garage apartment in my in-laws’ backyard when my mother-in-law began to call my new husband home for dinner out her kitchen window.

It wasn’t long before the eyes that had once held mine captive began to stare at the television instead, and when the children came along, I had no clue there would be times we would not have the money for diapers or milk. As the children grew, I never imagined they would be jealous of one another or want eighty-dollar shoes. I never dreamed they would think I was unreasonable or old-fashioned.

Maybe I watched too many episodes of Leave It to Beaver, or one too many fairy tales.

Perhaps you’ve dreamed your own dreams that have come crashing down. It really doesn’t matter where they came from or how they became broken and shattered. What does matter is the good news—and that is this: God heals broken hearts and broken dreams if we allow Him and helps us to let them go.

Scripture:

Psalm 34:18The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Prayer:

Lord, how thankful I am that You are in the business of healing broken heart and broken dreams.. I ask You to heal and restore the broken things in my life and in my heart. I willingly release the dreams I have held so tightly—especially those that were never within Your will or purpose for me. Though I do not understand how many things turned out, I bring them to You—for burial or for resurrection if it is your will—and I trust You to do as You see fit. May our hearts rest in peace in Your faithful hands. Amen.

Devotional Takeaway:

Some dreams must be buried before better ones can be born. When we release our shattered dreams into His hands, we make room for His promises—stronger, truer, and eternal.