“If you trust in yourself. . .and believe in your dreams. . .and follow your star. . . you'll still get beaten by people who spent their time working hard and learning things and weren't so lazy.”
PSALM 13-16
ACTS 18
JOURNAL
Dreams are a wonderful gift. They awaken hope, stir imagination, and pull us toward becoming more than we are today. There is nothing wrong with dreaming about the future. In fact, I think God often uses dreams to call us forward. But I've begun to realize that the dream itself was never meant to satisfy me. It was meant to get me moving. The real joy is found in the pursuit.
Paul dreamed of seeing people come to know Christ, yet when he arrived in Corinth, he made tents. Before he preached in the synagogue, he worked with his hands alongside Aquila and Priscilla. That detail could almost seem insignificant, but Scripture intentionally includes it. The Kingdom of God wasn't built only through Paul's sermons. It was also built through his willingness to faithfully do ordinary work.
Psalm 15 paints a similar picture. The person who dwells with God is not necessarily the one who accomplishes extraordinary things. It is the one who walks with integrity, speaks truth, keeps promises even when it hurts, and quietly does what is right day after day. God seems far more interested in who I am becoming than in what I eventually accomplish.
I've spent much of my life chasing outcomes, believing that fulfillment was waiting on the other side of some future achievement. But more and more I believe the dream is simply God's way of inviting me into today's work. The destination gives direction, but the transformation happens on the road. Maybe that's why Jesus tells me not to worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow isn't where life is found. Life is found in this conversation, this workout, this lesson, this practice, this meeting, this meal, this act of kindness. Today is where God is shaping me.
I've also realized that hard work isn't the opposite of faith. It is often one of faith's greatest expressions. Paul worked so he wouldn't burden others. He embraced the ordinary because he understood that ordinary faithfulness is sacred. There is dignity in labor. There is worship in showing up. The older I get, the more I see that the magic was never in reaching the dream. The magic was that the dream inspired me to become someone capable of pursuing it. Every early morning, every setback, every lesson learned, every relationship built, every act of discipline was quietly transforming me into a different person.
So today I don't want to idolize the dream. I want to embrace the pursuit. I want to trust God enough to believe that if the dream changes, is delayed, or never fully comes to pass, nothing has been lost. If I have learned to love, to work, to trust, and to become more like Christ along the way, then I have already received the greater gift. The dream may have gotten me started. But the pursuit is where I found God.