I don’t like to fail. I don’t like to look silly. As a result, I very rarely attempt anything unless I have a pretty good idea that I will do well at it. I’ve been told I probably missed out on a lot of fun things, but I just saw no need to take a chance on failure. As an adult, I find that I have a similar response to setting goals. This year has been no different. At work and in private, I’m being urged (and in some cases required) to set goals. I. Hate. It. Everything I read, seems to ask: “What is your purpose?” “What is your dream?” or “What is your goal?” And every time, I draw a blank. I just don’t know. Is that bad? I put off any required goal setting to the very last-minute. I don’t want to fail, so I don’t want to document the possibility of failure. Why take a chance?
Several years ago, a friend asked me where I wanted to be in five years. I was recently widowed and could honestly say that every goal or dream I had for the future was buried with my husband. I had a hard time seeing into the next week, much less imagining the next five years. In fact, the very idea of the future was just too painful at that time. So, I stopped dreaming. I stopped planning. I just moved from one day to the next. I guess I didn’t totally stop all planning. I still had to manage a household. I had kids that needed support and guidance. But, my goals were often day-to-day survival. I’ve progressed to a little more long-term planning. But sometimes, I think I’ve forgotten how to dream.
A recent blog by Holley Gerth, has challenged me to find my God-sized dream. I honestly don’t know what that dream looks like in my life. I’m asking to God to show me my dream, to give me the courage to actually dream. Am I brave enough to dream again? Am I willing to look silly in order to dream? Am I truly ready to expose my heart again to dreams and goals that may result in pain along the way? I think I am. I hope I am.