Stuck in Dreams

Via

        

         I’m a dreamer; an ISFJ to be precise. What’s that mean? It partly means I find more pleasure and enjoyment in the idea of a thing to the thing itself.

For instance, I find great delight in the idea of spending the day on our pond; it’s rather lovely, my idea. It goes like this: Me, beautifully arrayed, sitting in our silver boat. I float about reading my latest find while eating an apple just like Anne of Green Gable would do. After a while I let my hair down and I just know that the scene is as pretty as a picture.

          In reality I’m sitting in a rusty boat on a murky pond and I’m sweating buckets. My half eaten apple has long turned brown and the gnats love to swarm about my tangled, wind-tossed hair.

          Reality isn’t nearly as pretty as I pictured.

          The problem isn’t that I’m dreamy. I believe God made me this way for His glory. He knows that His church needs both practical, down-to-earth realists as well as the reaching-for-the-stars dreamers. He makes all things work for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.

          The problem is how I let my preference for the idea become more important, more engaging, than the idea itself. We all know of the sincere Christian who dreams of becoming a missionary yet fearfully refuses to speak of Christ to his college peers or the young lady who dreams of running the picture-perfect home yet refuses to be a blessing where she is at now. They’re in love with the dream while they shirk the hands-on, practical necessaries.

          What then can we dreamers do? Throw out our ideals? Never. Instead let’s put our hand to the plow. Has God given you the desire (dream) for a more active, powerful prayer life? Then spend time in prayer. Have you been inspired to get into shape? Then by all means, put that on-sale Valentine candy back on the shelf. Are you dreaming of running a home of your own one day? Then practice the virtues of a servant.

Making dreams reality only happens when we are willing to do the hard things.

Ugh. I hate doing the hard things. But what I hate even more is never growing because I’m too busy dreaming.  Too busy wishing I was a better Christian, witness, daughter, student and friend . . .

Oh, Papa, teach me to be content with where I am at and to put into action the beautiful dreams you give.

Yours forever dreamy,

          Frannie


 P.S. I know, I know. Writing about being Beatrix Potter one moment and then writing about reality the next . . . can this girl ever find balance?

One  day in glory I will. Until then laugh and bear with me.  :)