Letters to a Young Dreamer

(I recently was introduced to some young people, and in the midst of the conversation I met one child who wanted to know about writing, her question quite struck me. I saw the fleeting momentary reality of losing a dream in the wake of something else, I had to write a response, as what I saw went far beyond one childs experience. I kept my feelings along with these personal words, sealed up in my journal but kept feeling the Holy Spirit impressing it on my heart this evening, to share it...so here it is...) 

I reflect with fondness on the amusing circumstances that brought us in to each others worlds. How you boldly leaned over and asked me that question about being a writer, but first you started by telling me your age, the tender sap of 12 years old and your dream of writing, one day. The question startled me however and it was tipped with a sadness that stayed with me. The only question you had about writing and it was summed up in, "what is your income like?" It was the very first thing that fell from your lips as though it were the most natural requirement to be thought of. 

At the time I could not find an answer to match neither my conscience or the situation, so you will allow me the indulgence of sharing my heart so openly with you here. 

Young dreamer, your butterfly dreams I sensed, are bound. And the answer to your question lies in a deeper question still. If it were for finances or material comforts alone, would I have abandoned the armchair of this world, in pursuit of the Cross that has taken me in to a different world? Would I have counted it all loss, to know the simple yet eternal heartbeat of the cross? As I whispered across the already finished meal, obedience is echoed in the ink of a pen, Jesus lovingly called me to write and how grateful I am that He has chosen this for me, by His great grace and mercy.

Young dreamer, I see your hesitation yet your dreams are colourful do not let them fade in to black and white. The world has just begun for you! I fear that we are all as adults, giving birth to a dead generation. Teaching comfort over compassion, teaching the armchair of a self satisfied life, over passionate advocacy for the less fortunate, the desperate and the weak. We are teaching safety over sanctity and compromise over holiness in the One True God. I want you to know dear one just how loved you are and I want you to know that you can be whatever you were created to be. Can you feel how such Perfect Love can cast out all these fears? For your fears are merely secondary voices, shadows of family members and societies spectres that haunt corners, afraid of people on purpose. 

Are you afraid? Don't be! Deep comfort and sancitifed rest come on the other side of abandoning self to the arms of our Messiah.

Young dreamer, the purest passion and the holiest purpose lies in the breasts of children. Before the age of responsibility and complexity gnaw at our most innocent, Heaven scented dreams. That purest purpose has begun to fade but commit it to memory. Conceal it in the chambers of prayer, entrust it in the open palms of our Beloved Saviour whom you have come to know and have learned about. Then find the courage to live your call, as our Father in Heaven calls to each of us but it is up to us to peer up and surrender to the bright red telephone ringing in our hearts. Answer it dear one, do not be afraid for you are so greatly loved....

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