Rev. Renita Green, Columnist

The art teacher extended the invitation for dreamers to enter a safe space without limits or boundaries for the imagination. Dreamers were encouraged to explore every thought and idea through multiple mediums. That room was the space for imagination to become reality. 

Those powerful words are found in Genesis 37:19 and are part of a story filled with excitement, resentment, fear, disappointment, and joy. Sometimes the words of Luke 2:19 accompany this text, “And Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.” Many sermons have inspired and empowered us through the story of Joseph, his brothers, and the Pharoah. Through these messages, we have learned to be wise and humble when we share our dreams and with whom they are shared—that the enemy lies in wait to destroy the dreamer before the dreams have the chance to live. 

I was about ten or eleven when I remember hearing a Sunday School lesson from Habakkuk 2:2-3, “Write the vision; make it plain on tablets, so that a runner may read it. There is still a vision for the appointed time; it speaks of the end and does not lie. If it seems to tarry, wait for it; it will surely come and not delay.” I used to keep a dream journal that contained all of my wild imaginations. A series of life interruptions caused me to stop writing in this journal, but I held onto it for many years. Finally, during a traumatic time in my life, I pulled it out when I was alone; reading it with tears brought me hope. I remember the day I tossed it into the trash—the dreams that once brought hope then seemed to taunt me. 

At some point, I stopped dreaming—I stopped imagining what life could be or who I could become. I have learned that this is typical for those who are just surviving their day-to-day life. As surviving became easier, dreaming returned. My dreams were always for others—how to improve life, ease burdens and shine a light on and in darkness. While this is noble and worthy of merit, these dreams sprung out of trauma and were a trauma response. The dream became a place to hide—a facade of healing. 

Sometimes it is hard to know if we are healing or hiding from our trauma. 

“We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28). Even when we are hiding, this promise is true—all things—all of our dreams for others that are imagined in our hiding places—work together for good. It is the working together that sometimes tricks us—we believe ourselves to be in the perfect will of God because all the things are working together. 

The hiding place is an essential, safe place for us to heal. However, we do not always do the work of healing once we find rest in hiding. Hiding causes us to feel lost, directionless and discombobulated. Sometimes we heal and stay in hiding because this is where we feel most safe and comfortable. The problem is that we outgrow the hiding place, and the longer we stay, the harder it is to leave—we get stuck. And then, some are ready to emerge from the hiding place but unsure what to do. We learned to survive. Now it is time to thrive intentionally. 

Several months ago, I found myself in the place of needing to learn how to thrive intentionally. So I research and found myself a Life Coach. 

One of the first sets of questions I could not answer was about where my life would be in three, five, or ten years from now. My homework was to dream without time, age, space, location, resources, and knowledge limits. Sitting with my homework, I imagined myself in that art room where it was safe to dream and imagine. Through this process, including conversations with my Coach, I was able to unlock a dream I had long held in my heart. My Coach, like the art teacher, invited me into a magical place where my dreams were safe—where I was safe to dream.

I was then given the homework of answering the question, “What is needed to make this dream live”? I realized I knew the steps to take and the questions to answer—I already knew the process; I just needed a little coaching to help me realize and articulate my knowledge.

This exercise pulled me out of hiding: Behold, the dreamer cometh. The Dreamer has been awakened, and suddenly the impossible does not exist, and the invisible can be seen. The Dreamer has been awakened, and suddenly, the Dreamer can imagine a thriving life without fear or limits. 

I treasure the words spoken over my dreams and pondering them in my heart. I write them with confidence and reread them to stay encouraged. I am researching how to make my dreams a reality—I do not know the answers, but I know the process. The Dreamer is awake and equipped, and I feel alive! 

Dream, dreamers, dream. It is great on this side of life!