Dreaming. If it were a person, I would walk right up to him and introduce myself by extending my hand towards him, and at the very moment our palms made contact, I would usher him into some type of body hold my younger brother taught me during his third grade martial arts class. I would hold him there until he told me exactly what I am supposed to do. I’d ask him, “When is my life going to start? When am I going to find that ‘calling’ I have looked and waited for since I was a young boy? I remember people telling me that I had the ‘fire’ in my eyes! So where is that calling I should pursue? Where is the life I have be dreaming about?” After getting all the answers I needed I’d release him and his, now purple, arm.

“Hey, sorry about that. But I just needed to know what direction I should be headed… I’m in my twenty-whatevers and there’s a lot of pressure to be-do-accomplish something.” Hopefully he would understand.

There has never been a time when I haven’t been doing something, but there is always an insatiable urge to dream of the next big something. I would dream of what the next big thing I could write home about was. In college, I needed to figure out my vocation, and figure it out fast. Maybe it was so I could bring peace to the hearts of others when they inquired about my future. Maybe it was to bring peace to my own. Whatever the case, I needed to always have something I was working towards. Last year I worked the best coffee gig in my hometown. I was a barista in a job that encourages ministry. Could there be a better job for a young christian dude working his way through college? I’d say no. Yet, I was discontent with the amazing gift that fell in my lap. Why? Because I HAD to Continue Reading…