Lately I've had a lot of trouble sleeping. Maybe it's because a herd of teenage boys play ping-pong in the room above me late into the night or maybe it's because I've let my faithless heart go wandering yet again. Whatever the cause, tonight I am to the point that my gas-light has come on.
Some times I think it's only when I am truly exhausted that my true character shines through. That little red light blinking back is showing me a lot these days. My loneliness. My addictions. My weakness. My oddly-placed hope. My fear.
The weirdest/worst though has been the light shining on the empty spot my dreams should be occupying.
My mom, a year or two back, told me that she didn't have dreams of her own. She was tired and working several jobs, and I think she just couldn't see anything beyond where she was. I hated seeing her like that because she seemed deflated and empty. I remember wishing and praying that God would help her find one, but at the time, I couldn't grasp how she felt. I remember thinking it was crazy. Everyone always has a dream to pursue, right?
Apparently not. I wish I still didn't know this feeling, but I am hoping now that at the very least this experience will help me grow and help me encourage others with their own struggles.
There is hope, of course, my mom has since found a new dream and now happily spends her days helping kids at the library she works for and planning events for them.
There are always more dreams. Now I just have to find mine.