Lesson 3: Letting the Dream Die

Oh, how I want to write this.

"Beware of your dreams, for dreams make dangerous friends," says Phil Vischer, the creator of Veggie Tales and What's in the Bible.

David and I have just been reading Phil's autobiography (I feel like I can call him Phil--we listen to his podcast all the time, have read his bio, and he's just "Phil" on What's in the Bible). In his autobiography, he talks about how Big Idea (the company behind Veggie Tales) grew and grew to the point of bankruptcy (due to overhiring and overspending), and how he learned through a series of events to let his dream die.

Yes, let his dream of a Christian corporation that would rival Disney die.

He says once he let go, that falling felt much like floating, and that's why he's named his new, much smaller company "Jellyfish." Because jellyfish don't locomote. They can go up and down some, but they can't go forward; they just float in the current. And that's what the Christian faith should be--floating in the center of God's will, waiting on the Lord, knowing he has the direction and the details covered.

I had a very short vision that I would write a long series here of learning how to dream. That I would teach myself to dream through writing about it.

Now I have an entirely new perspective. I no longer want to dream. I want all my dreams to die. I want to live in the day, the hour, the minute, in the center of His will. I've messed up a lot, but the beauty of His power is that you can get in the center of his will in a nanosecond, just by knowing that you need to be in the center of His will. "Look unto Me and be saved," He says. Just look. Just remember that you're supposed to be in the center of His will.

And that's where I've goofed, so often. I've forgotten where I was supposed to be, and I've been miserable. I've been running around in a fog, like Scarlet O'Hara in her nightmare, searching but not able to find "something." I've been trying to figure out, all this time, what I was searching for so that I could map out a plan to get there.

And now I realize that I'm not supposed to do that--say, maybe that's why I've been so miserable. Ambition isn't fun. It's like candy; it gives a rush for a moment, then you crash soon after. But being in the center of God's will is. Ambition feels like running blind; faith feels like floating, or resting in strong arms...because it is.