Buried deep in the earth of our hearts, God has buried dreams and hopes. While they lie under the surface, they ARE there.

Don’t chafe when you are caught in the in-between.

Every time I come west, something deep inside me wakes up. My arms stretch wide, and my lungs fill deep and happy. The wide sky floods me with excitement.

I guess you can take the Texan from Texas, but you can never really take the need for vast open spaces from her. And the more I see, even in the Midwest, the more I have to acknowledge it is what it is. Some of us were intended for wide open spaces. Maybe not the blustery cold winters or the sudden storms.

But yes, the sky! Oh, the sky calls us.

Deep within our veins, woven into our blood, programmed into our DNA, is a dream. Sometimes we have this dream buried deep inside, so deep we almost forget it’s there. But every once-in-a-while, it gets uncovered, and the staggering depth thrills our souls.

Buried deep in the earth of our hearts, God has buried dreams and hopes. While they lie under the surface, they ARE there.

It’s not an accident.

It’s not bad if it’s far off, out of reach, and downright impossible.

God put it there on purpose.

And even though it seems out of reach, it is there already and on purpose.

Trust in the big picture, in the whole season, even before the dreams push above the dry surface.

Faithfulness and diligence in the waiting seasons are far more a part of our future dreams than we could ever imagine. Lean into those dreams when God opens the door to them. Also, remember, godliness with contentment is great gain.

Loving your little ones well trains you to love others down the road. Surrendering your heart to shoulder today’s heavy yoke will result in firm, confident muscles prepared for tomorrow’s needs and opportunities.

Don’t chafe when you are caught in the in-between.

Don’t resent the seasons of waiting.

Know that here, before the dream unfolds, you are exactly where you are supposed to be.

It’s worship. Leaning into the beauty, and leaning into the dry empty garden rows, knowing the seeds will push up someday is worship too.

Author: Me lis sa Troyer