Saying Goodbye to a Dream.
Michelle Kwan announced this morning that she is withdrawing from the 2006 Olympics. It broke my heart when I heard. I admit, I was interested in this year’s Olympics mainly because of Michelle. I look forward to ice skating competitions because I love watching her skate. She has a love for the sport and an enjoyment in it that shows every time she gets on the ice and that none can surpass.

As I watched the highlights of her press conference announcing her withdrawal, I knew what had probably happened behind closed doors. Or what will happen some time in the near future.

You cannot say goodbye to a dream without shedding some tears. Especially one that you have held close for so long. A dream so dear, so important to you deserves to be mourned. And mourned properly. It deserves some sobbing and even some throwing of things and kicking of walls and doors. No one watching her could deny the pain she must be feeling. Yet she handled herself with so much grace and composure. But everyone at the conference knew what this dream meant to Michelle. And they knew how much it hurt for her to admit she would not be able to compete this year. They new the subtext was that her dream of Olympic gold was dead.

My heart aches for Michelle.

But it also aches for all of us who have buried dreams that died before they were realized. We’ve all suffered this grief. We’ve all had dreams that crumbled before we could fully embrace them. And others that died in our arms. And still others that  we never even got close to before they breathed their last.

And the truth is, we’ll suffer this pain and grief again, if we continue to really live, really embrace life. This is just the reality of Life — some dreams die while still planted deep in our hearts. Its the hardest thing to do, grieve such an ethereal yet deeply real loss. I have cried buckets over my lost dreams. I’ve struggled and raged and pleaded. And finally buried them in acceptance that it is time to let them go and move forward.

The thing is, we can’t fully embrace the next dreams until we’ve buried the ones that have died. As long as our arms are full, cradling the death, we can never embrace the new baby dreams God is birthing in the depths of our hearts even as we grieve.

I just recently discovered this. So much time I’ve spent clinging to lost and dead dreams, all the while God is pleading with me to let go and see what new things, new great gifts He has in store for me.

Tonight a new friend spoke at The Bridge gathering and his words echoed those Jesus has been whispering and shouting from the wind to me over the last few weeks: Context. Its about context. Just looking at  the events of my life as stand-alone, or even connected but unrelated lessons to learn from isn’t enough. I need to step back, look back across the landscape of my life and discover the context.

I can do this with some things, especially those further back in my life. But, since I’m walking backwards into my future, I cannot yet fit some of the recent things into the context of God’s design. But I believe someday I will.

In the meantime, I’m learning to let go and move forward with Jesus. I still think lovingly and longingly sometimes about my old dreams, sometimes even ache over their loss. I still wonder at times what life would be like had they not died. But ultimately I can’t be bothered pondering them for long. My life is…. My Life Is.

I am alive. I Live, really Live, and even with all the pain and angst and struggle and frustration, I know that God has done this; He has created Life in me where there was none. He has breathed Hope in me where I could not. I Live. And I Live an Abundant Life. And despite the pain and grief and loss and labor pains of rebirth, man! Is it worth it. I may grouse and complain and cry and wail, but I would not have this thing called Life any other way. Life with Jesus is worth it all. And I love it.