on tending what's meant for you

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It's not lost on me that the continued whisper from my soul to write is because I'm supposed to write. She lingers like a lost pup at the back door— pacing, making her presence known, until I finally feed her.

I denied the longing for years. Was it fear of spending time and energy on something that wasn't tied to a paycheck? Or was I concerned that if, after all this time, I took to the page and it wasn't any good? That shouldn’t have even been a concern — just an irrefutable truth of anything we return to after a quiet season: we have to knock the dried mud off the spokes first.

But the dream followed me, as it does. Always coming back, even if it felt pointless or even risky. Through fears and doubt. Through weekly attempts to talk myself out of it.

So here I am.

And here you are, with your dreams.

Our divine assignments — given to each one of us, along with the gifts, talents, and instincts required to steward them. In no accidental way, they are meant for each of us.

As I explored whether it mattered if these efforts ever made a dime, I realized the most important truth about living the desires of our heart.

It's not about making a living.
It's about making a life.

Who I have become in the process of that making is what matters. The one who thinks in textures and dances with the rhythm of the words. Sounds of nothing but the keyboard clattering. Joy - simply from doing. No outcome attached. And because of that, I won't push a creative something into the margins anymore because it doesn't support a full-time career.

That was me for too long, and maybe that's you too.
Minimizing art because it doesn't pay the rent.
Diminishing the dream of travelling to the places your heart longs to go because you think it's unrealistic.
Even assuming the habits that embody the person you want to be.
It's all been given to you. We're uniquely qualified to take these on - but will we?

The decisions we make (and importantly, don't make) define the richness and fullness of this life. I can't get to the end of this thing and realize I left the dreams way back behind me. I meant to get the piano tuned so I could start up those lessons for kids in the neighborhood. I always wanted to bake through my Grandma Jessie's cookbook. I had plans to start that business. Would've been great…but I ran out of time. Those words are literally terrifying.

My prayer is that this reframes your perspective on claiming your own definition of a rich life, and be intentional about living it well. The time for all of that, is now.

Let me speak a hopeful word into your heart: If you're reading this, it's because you're meant to. Wherever your dreams sit in this moment, they're exactly where they need to be and so are you. Let's be people that tend to them.