Before I had kids I was brave…or, at least I thought I was.
I also might have been a little crazier, a little less thoughtful of the others around me, a little…well, probably a lot of things. That’s just what happens when there aren’t little people depending on you for their survival.
The five years before we had kids, my husband and I worked overseas, and our years spent in southeast Asia gave us plenty opportunities to dust off our crazy…the kind of opportunities that now make me wonder why just a tad, the kind that I’d probably rethink now that we have two littles. And they’re also the kind that I now write stories about, too. 
We did all sorts of things to risk our lives. Like, one time my husband did some questionable parasailing on a Thai beach. (He swears it was safe, but I’m the one who watched it.)
Both of us drove motorbikes all over a rather busy, traffic-congested city. (Most of the time we wore helmets.)
We’d drive the windy, curvy, really-intense-but-only-way-to-get-there, roads for six plus hours with eight other people in the car to hang at the beach for a weekend.
We’d eat food from local street vendors, which is a lot braver than it sounds, depending on the country in which you reside. Ahem. (But all hail to the fried bananas with chocolate sprinkles and cheese anyway. Worth every single upset stomach and sick day.)
And one time, I jetted off to the REAL jungle (the full of animals kind) with some friends for a hike and a spontaneous, vine-swing. And while the getting-there part of this adventure shouldn’t have been the most memorable part of the excursion, I’ve never forgotten it.
After landing in Medan and taking a van for about four hours through some pothole-filled back roads, we had to walk the last mile or so to the Jungle Inn. At midnight.
And I clearly remember that walk very, very well, because although I was with a group, it was totally dark other than the one flashlight held by the guy who met our taxi and led us to our hotel. And I also wasn’t brave enough to tell my friends that I was currently obsessing over the fact that I was absolutely positive a poisonous snake was just lurking in the shadows, ready to chomp at the unsuspecting, but actually totally suspecting, foreign girl who was terrified of them.
Each step was taken out of terror, my mind racing with possible, all-worse-case scenarios as we tromped through the midnight blackness, up and down steps and sidewalks and places that weren’t paved at all, and I felt so much relief when we finally saw the dim lights of our hotel. I hadn’t enjoyed a single step of that bit of the journey, taken in total darkness. I also hadn’t actually SEEN a single step of the journey either.
But those steps I’d taken…the ones I couldn’t see? They still got me to my destination.
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Yes, they did…and the next day went down as one of the most memorable days of my life. A hike through the jungles of Bukit Lawang, seeing the orangutans, swinging on a vine just because I could, ending the adventure with some tubing down the river. It was an incredible day that’s etched in my heart forever.
But getting there? Ugh.
Worth it? Absolutely. But still, ugh.
I’ve been around this space for years now, and I’ll tell you, as I’ve often shared before, that I still don’t always know what my God-sized dreams are.
I’d like to write a book. I’d like to write for a few websites out there. I’d like to know for sure what God’s great, big purpose for me is in this greater, bigger world. But still, most days, I feel like I’m walking along in the dark…
I take care of my family, and most days that’s what I do. And most days, also, it feels like I’m not taking any steps forward…I’m just living my life, trying to do what’s in front of me, trying to follow my Father even if I don’t really know where I’m going.
It doesn’t always feel like enough dream chasing, but maybe…maybe it is.
For this season of my life, maybe my God-sized Dream is raising my kids and taking care of my family. It’s what God has called me to do.
Holley Gerth‘s book, You’re Made for a God-sized Dream, really resonates with me as she speaks to those moments when we’re not sure what’s next for us:
…lay it down. Surrender that goal to Jesus and tell him, “This is where I think you want me to go. So I’m moving forward. But you are Lord of my life, and you can change my path at any step along the way. What matters most to me is that I’m obedient to you.” Then go. (p. 74-75)
Obedience. That’s really what it’s all about on this dreaming journey, and what my prayer is for my life.
Whether I can see where I’m going or if I’m stepping in the dark.
Shared by Mel Schroeder
