I dreamed last night of a sappy encounter. A greeting of old friends, of hugging and handshakes. Then surprise. Behind me, the guy of my dreams, wrapping his arms around me, telling me I’m more beautiful than he remembered… Then I pushed him away, sobbing. Telling him I loved him, but that I needed to leave, to move overseas, to go to Africa and teach. My heart broken in two, severed by a love greater than my own.
The desire to love and be loved by a man isn’t entirely dead, though I suppress it well (most of the time). But beating in my heart is a unique call, an insistent throbbing to live life differently. To live life in a culture not my own.
I know its Valentine’s Day. The hearts, the chocolates, the flowers, the seeming thousands of high school couples gracing the hallways at school today tell me that. The celebration of love certainly intensifies the buried desires within. So I dream. But when I awake, the dream doesn’t end. It grows. And keeps growing until I can’t even see myself anymore. I see nations, a world of souls, eyes wide open, hungering and thirsting to know and understand the love of Christ.
“For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded IN LOVE, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to KNOW THE LOVE OF CHRIST that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.”
– Ephesians 3:14-19