...waiting

I had a dream last night. I dreamed I was lying in bed, praying- and I definitely could have really been in between sleep and awake praying, when God answered me. And when I was at an understandable loss for words, He asked, "would you like a print-out?" and suddenly there was a printer on my nightstand that proceeded to print off a page of words that apparently He needed me to know. As I was reading the first paragraph, I slowly woke up and started praying for real.

I don't often dream about God. I think I've only dreamed about Him maybe two times in my life that I can remember, including the dream I just described. I prayed for definition of my life. For direction. For guidance- for a push in the right direction- in ANY direction...so long as it means I can feel like I am not in this disturbing stand-still.

I've been thinking though. I haven't been moving because I haven't been giving Him anything to move. You know? It's common to hear the phrase "waiting on God" but what if He's waiting on me? I think maybe He is. And quite honestly, I think I'm waiting too.

When will enough be enough?


"you know what's wrong with you- miss whoever you are? you're chicken- you've got no guts, you're afraid to stick out your chin and say okay life's a fact- people do fall in love, people do belong to each other- because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness. you call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing, and you're terrified somebody's going to stick you in a cage. well baby, you're already in that cage- you built it yourself. and it's not bounded in the west by tulip texas or in the east by somali land, it's wherever you go- because no matter where you run you just end up running into yourself." -breakfast at tiffany's