About the Author

Kristen writes at her parenting blog, We Are THAT Family and is author of Rhinestone Jesus: Saying Yes to God When Safe Sparkly Faith is No Longer Enough and founder of The Mercy House. Follow Kristen on twitter as @WeareTHATfamily.

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  1. It’s so much more fun (is that correct grammar?) when we yield to Him and let Him give us His dream for us. Thanks for sharing a bit of your story. You inspire us!
    Kristin & Chris Ann

  2. Kristen, I’m facing this in my life right now…wondering how He might change my dreams, and *seeing* how I’ve changed in the process of even having my dreams. He’s so amazing, isn’t He?! How He knows what’s BEST for us!

  3. Going through this, kind of, right now. I went to school and majored in psychology and now it holds no interest for me. At all. And it isn’t because of burn out, it’s a God thing, I can tell. What I can’t figure out is where to go from here. Yet. For now I’ll just be wife and mom and pray for clarification.

  4. Right now? It’s too be healthy, happy, and financially free enough to be able to go and do whatever He calls me to without having to pause and consider the technicalities! 🙂

  5. Dear Kristen,

    Thank you for sharing the lovely message.

    But I’m so curious to know, what are your dreams now (as you’ve said that God changed your dreams)?

    Sincerely,

    Alexis

  6. I have had so many dreams that I thought i wanted so badly…I thought i would surely perish if they did not become reality. But His plan, His dreams for me…no mater how hard to accept in the beginning are now the dreams I GET to live! I wouldn’t trade this…process and all for any of those old dreams…and insome small ways I realize that those old dreams ARE being lived out…just not HOW I thought they would be.

  7. A dream….

    I can’t even type those two words without crying. The word “dream” scares me to know end. Because I avoid mine: I wrestle, I bury, I second – third – two-hundred and twelve times guess myself on if my dream matches God’s dream. And even if it does, I can’t get past the enormous likelihood that I’ll fail. I’ll fail a thousand times. I won’t be as good, or as talented. I’ll scrape myself bare of all the pretenses and masks and safety barriers – I’ll stand exposed in every flaw and insecurity, and people will have full access to see and be horrified, or see and judge, or perhaps the worst: see and ignore – unable to relate.

    I was born with words flowing from me. They began as merely for me. As a way to communicate what was within, to a place where I could see them, touch them, feel them more potently – and thus understand myself more than I though possible. It escalated to a deep, racing river of intimacy with God. Growing, investigating, traveling with Him through prose and the delicacy of discovery.
    I wanted to write every day. It was for nobody’s acceptance, nobody’s eyes. Only His and mine. Then I had the unprepared thought that I could use the platform of words to speak, whether I was heard or not, then I could experience that freedom and bliss without cease.

    But when you empty that which you love out on the platform for full exposure – does it remain with you? Does it keep it’s vital place in your soul? Does it become compromised and challenged and superficial?

    Or is all of the questioning, the doubt, the excuses…are they all just manifestations of fear making itself a tyrant over truth? Is the bottom line: “I’m terrified to step out” – even believing God gave me this passion not to squander and hoard, but to nourish and share?

    The word and active verb “Dream” shouldn’t make one cry. It should ignite movement and fluid hope. My dream is to matter. To further the Kingdom of which I am an adopted daughter. My dream is to only, firmly, step the stones He lays beneath my feet. Nowhere else do I desire to tread, than in His ways.

    If that is by writing…by keeping the passion He gave me from the beginning, then I still need tremendous help in laying myself bare, in trusting that there is no failure that He cannot turn into transformative restoration. The refinement of a precious metal cannot take place without passing through fire after fire, to remove the impurities and become an unclouded mirror of beauty. Oh how I need to be unclouded.