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DREAM: Day Four New Year Writing Challenge with hope*writers

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I used to think dreaming was a bit like this photo, complete with similar results. I would exhale my dreams out into the world. They’d then catch in the wind . . . only to drift away, settle in the soil, and become someone else’s weed — a virtual nuisance to the ones who caught them. This mindset is directly related to what I shared about feeling like I am too much, therefore it is a natural progression for me to believe my dreams are also way too much. What I have so often neglected to do with my dreams is leave them in the capable grip of the Dreamgiver. My Jesus is perfectly able to fulfill those very dreams He has placed in my heart. However, I am guilty of holding on to them myself, squashing them with my toddler-like fists, and somehow wondering why I feel undervalued and forgotten when I still see myself so far away from my dreams coming to fruition. How do I stop this spiral of unfulfilled dreams from continuing? One way is to identify what dreams I am choosing

An Audience of One

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We all have fears that have kept or keep us from pursuing the ___________ (fill in the blank) we know the Lord has put on our hearts. Voices in our heads. Taunting from a variety of places and spaces. For me, those fears are all related to my writing or making art. I get stuck and feel like a fake. Then I write nothing. at. all. Let's examine a couple of official terms for this oft-recurring deterrent to us having more good writing to read. Imposter Syndrome :  The  imposter syndrome  is a psychological term referring to a pattern of behavior where people doubt their accomplishments and have a persistent, often internalized fear of being exposed as a fraud. This article is a wonderful resource. Comparison trap: " The temptation to compare is as near as your next chat with a friend, trip to the store, or check-in on social media. And whether you come out on top or come up lacking, there is simply no win in comparison. It’s a trap," according to Sandra Stanle

Beauty in the Broken

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The BEACH.  My solace.  My refuge.  The place my heart soars and my soul is at rest.  Don't get me wrong. I find beauty in every single day. I see God's power and majesty on a regular basis in the mundane and the extravagant. He is visible all around me when I take the time to intentionally look around and acknowledge His presence.  Yet at the beach, I stand at the water's edge and watch the methodical lapping of the waves against the shore. Or in stark contrast, I find myself in awe of the pounding of the wild and gusty surf during a storm.  The powerful hand of my God moves the entire ocean, and it shoots sand and salty spray into my eyes -- chafing my skin and sending shocks of exhilaration into my heart. I am thrilled at His power and majesty so visible. The same power that propels the water to the shore and pounds the coastline with such unrelenting vigor is what alters my other very favorite past time at the beach.  I am a sheller. From my very f