Your dreams cannot be discarded like roadside flea market bargain items. They are far too lofty for that. They are magnanimous, fortuitous, and irrevocable. They are four syllable words that look fancy and important and deserve proper grammar. They are as vital as the Queen of England or Seinfeld on syndication.
Your dreams are important because you are important. If you were separated from your dreams, they would cease to be. Not only would they not be important, they wouldn’t even be a thought, a reality, a glimmer. But because you dream them, they are real. You are the reason your dreams are important.
And I’m not talking about the bad dreams or the mean dreams or the sad dreams. I am talking about the four-year-old-naïve dreams, the larger-than-life dreams, the football player-ballerina dreams. I am talking about the dreams you don’t want to say because they are too optimistic and too innocent and too wide-eyed to be “real.”
When I was younger I wanted to be a professional basketball player. My parents are small people. My grandparents are small people. I am a small person. But my dream was important because I was important. My dream carried the weight of my hopes and the mirth of my identity. So when my dad asked me what team I would play for someday, when my dad bought me a jersey, and when my dad practiced with me through dark and still Oklahoma nights, he was not only investing in my dream, he was investing in me.
When we invest in someone’s dreams, far-fetched or not, we are investing in their identity. We are putting a large, yellow, mid-90s Wal-Mart smiley face sticker directly on their insides. We are telling them that they are worth it. They mean something. Their dreams are noticed, appreciated, and valued. They are loved.
Maybe you have never had someone look at your dreams and tell you that they are awesome. Maybe you spend nights staring at the patterns on the ceiling because you don’t have anyone to talk to. No one to tell about who you want to be, the person you want to become, or the life you want to lead. We all deserve to have that someone.
Your dreams may be sitting on a shelf at a roadside flea market, tarnished and sullied. But they are still a reality. Perhaps all they need is someone to pick them up and dust them off in order to become new again.
P.S. If you don’t remember how to dream, try beginning here: Psalm 126:1-3. Just type it into your Google bar and allow the words to soak into your identity.