I (Used To Sorta Kinda) Have a Dream

Erik Cooper —  January 16, 2012 — Leave a comment

Today we celebrate one of history’s greatest dreamers. A man with a vision so compelling, so transforming, so revolutionary, he was willing to give everything (including his life) to see it become reality. He made the world a more beautiful place. We rightly stand in awe.

Martin Luther King had an imagination like few others. Or did he?

I think we’re all born with unimaginable imaginative potential. Unlike MLK, most of us have just quit using it.

The older I get, the more I’ve impulsively begun to lean into what I know. To protect what I have. It’s proven (for better or worse). It’s safer there. And to top it off, I’ve collected some nice things. Some important things.

A wife.

A family.

A house.

Some nice relationships.

Responsibilities.

An ebb and flow.

A reputation.

Certainty has it’s benefits (even if it’s only the illusion of certainty).

To risk all that for what’s behind door number 1 doesn’t seem overly pragmatic. As invigorating as a dream might be, it’s also carries a high likelihood of costing me something. Dreams are always trade-offs – what already is for what might be. And strangely enough, a known mess can seem more appealing that unknown possibility.

What if I end up with a billy goat? A timeshare? The latest Nickelback album? That’s just too much to consider.

While teaming with blood-pumping potential, my imagination is also an evil playground for some blood-curdling visions. Sure, that constant scrape against the window might just be a tree branch blowing in the wind, but it’s probably some serial killer re-enacting his favorite scene from Dexter.

Fear.

Pain.

Loss.

Self-protection.

They’re dream killers. If we don’t confront these counterfeits, the greatest oration we’ll ever deliver is the I (Used To Sorta Kinda) Have a Dream speech. I’ve seen that in plenty of reflections (including my own), but never any history books.

So I challenge you to pray this prayer with me in this year: “Lord, rekindle my imagination!”

It might cost you what you know. It might cost you your life. It also just might make your life count for something eternal.

Does your imagination need rekindling?

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