I become obsessive when I have a new idea or dream that excites me. I want to run with it and throw myself into working to make the dream a reality as soon as possible. The Lord has me on a journey of slowing down and learning to trust the process. Not all dreams can be achieved immediately; not all dreams can be achieved at all. When I reference dreams, I’m referring to an idea that inspires me. Sometimes it is a hope for the type of person I want to be, other times a specific project or goal I want to accomplish.

Some of my current dreams include a place I imagine of deep belonging and connection. A place where there is room at the table for everyone, and many people cycle in and out. I imagine that place being my house, but any home is an overflow of the people who inhabit it. How can I be a person of care and connection wherever I go? How can I invite people in and hold them in my heart? How can I physically offer a cup of tea and a comfy couch, and what is the emotional equivalent in my heart? Perhaps a big hug and a prayer. I think about people in my life who embrace me openly, not with the half hug that has become easy and popular. Sure, I can keep my self-protective walls high in a half-hug, but I feel more loved and my guard comes down in a full embrace.

So, I am learning to be a woman of peace, hospitality, and openness. I want to shower people with kindness and love regardless of how chaotic my physical space feels, though an orderly space does make a difference! I think of Elisabeth Elliot who was taught: “Don’t pick up your Bible unless you’ve swept under your bed.” If we are are inattentive and unintentional about our space and belongings, it’s not likely that we can be intentional about the cleanliness of our hearts.

I’m discovering that an orderly inner heart is perhaps what I’m most passionate about. If I want a clean, beautiful home, or healthy relationships, it all starts with a pure, beautiful heart. I imagine my inner heart like a garden where I meet Jesus. He is the expert Gardener who is cultivating my heart to produce good fruit, and tears out every weed that holds me back from abundant life. If I think about my dreams as seeds, they must be buried in the soil of my heart through prayer. They must be watered with tears, tended with faithfulness, and exposed to the light and warmth of the Son in order to grow into a reality and produce fruit. Some of the fruit in my life, be that personality traits or passions, are seeds that the Lord has planted in me. Other fruit comes from seeds I’ve partnered with the Lord in planting, like vision for my ministry and work.

When I look at my hands right now, I see I’m holding dream seeds that have not been buried. I know too well that all that truly lives first must die. That means my dreams—all of them—must die, and I’m not ready to let go. But there are two kinds of death: my attempt to control or protect dreams by hiding seeds in my hands, when in reality I am suffocating them, and a holy death where I bury my seeds with the Lord in prayer. In this latter form of death, I open my hands and surrender control of my dreams and desires to the Gardener who knows how to produce good fruit. It is precisely in letting go of control that my dreams are free to die and then come back in resurrected, eternal life. Time will show that some seeds will never grow to fullness, but those dreams that the Lord cultivates, will come true and produce eternal fruit.

I can’t sugarcoat it: watching dreams die is my biggest fear, and every dream MUST die. The lofty ideas and the deep desires that all seem so right and good to me will all eventually be suffocated or surrendered in order for my heart to be sanctified.

I can’t sugarcoat it: this process is HARD. When I give my dreams to God, I don’t know what he will do with them; if or when they might grow and become visible. I forfeit my rights to make my dreams come true through any achievement of my own. The process becomes dependent on me partnering with God through prayer to tend to the seeds: praying for his light to expose and remove all that is dead, and call upward all that is good; watering the ground with my tears, trusting that “those who sow in tears will reap with shouts of joy” as Psalm 126 promises. I forfeit my right to determine when a seed will bloom, or even what blooming looks like.

The pain of death must come before the celebration of new life, just as a seed is produced by the death of a flower, and resurrected life emerges from the grave. Rather than resent the death of my dreams, I’m learning to celebrate the sprouts of new life that come from each seed buried in hope and faith—surrendered in a holy death. I’m learning to trust that nothing is wasted: temporary pain is producing an eternal weight of glory and immense growth.

This conversation is not casual to me; it’s extremely personal. I’m in the process of letting go of my most precious dream seeds, namely a relationship that I have desired for my entire life. I’ve already seen my biggest fears come true—dreams according to my imagination have died, and I must move forward in ways I did not expect, with plans that are not my own. But, because I believe in a God of abundance, I trust his plans are better than what would have chosen for myself. I am practicing deeper hope in resurrected life, challenged by Elisabeth Elliot’s advice: “Don’t dig up in doubt what you planted in faith.” Once my seeds are soaked in prayer and tears, as these seeds are, I must not remove them by my own hand. Instead, I can actually rejoice that my dream seeds have been buried in a holy death. This is not the end; it’s only the beginning of how God will cultivate, grow, and one day cause these dreams to bloom.

I’m not great at sitting with my emotions, but I recognize that I can’t press into fullness of joy if I don’t also press into the fullness of pain and disappointment. I challenge you to be honest: where are you fearing loss, or feeling the death of a dream? What dream seeds and longings are you holding back from the Lord, instead of surrendering them in prayer? What areas of your life do you want to see bloom?

If the inner life is truly the most important part of us that causes every other area to overflow with beauty and goodness, these are the questions we must ask ourselves. Are there places in your heart that feel dry? Invite the Holy Spirit to pour living water into your heart. Are there places that are already blooming? Recognize the gift that new life is; celebrate it, and share it! Are you ashamed that your inner life is not what it could or should be? Fear not—you are in the process of becoming, and you are free to receive grace.

Freedom is only found in surrender. Surrender means I no longer try to control or anticipate what is to come; I am free to trust it will be good. Here’s to the good work of dreaming big dreams in faith, letting them die, and waiting expectantly for new life.