I’m Not Afraid to Dream Anymore

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a dreamer.
A notebook-filler, a list-maker, a journal-scribbler.

But there was one dream that stood out more than all the others—
the one that persisted throughout my teenage years.

I wanted to be a writer.
An author.
I wanted to publish books that would change lives—
books that would fill the gap I was feeling in my own life as a new Christian.

Faith-based books, written in simple, easy-to-understand language,
to help people learn how to walk with Jesus in their everyday lives.

But then the whispers came.

Who are you to write those books?
You’re too young.
You don’t have a compelling testimony.
You don’t have a seminary degree.
You’re not qualified.

Those insecurities stayed with me for years.

First, through the busyness of school, work and marriage.
Then, through the seasons of parenting, caregiving, and running my own business—
all while feeling like I was barely holding it together.

I felt like a mess.
I wasn’t making enough time for God,
which made me feel like I was failing as a Christian.

And then I closed my business—
the one thing in my messy life that had been mine.
It was an incredibly hard decision…
but the right decision for my family.

Even though I knew that,
I still felt like I had lost a part of me.

And that marked the beginning of my “lost years”—
ten long years of pouring myself out for everyone and everything else but me.

In those years, the dream I had been carrying to write slowly withered.

I began to believe the lie that it was too late.
That I was too old.
That I no longer had anything of value to say.
That I was “just” a mom, a caregiver—so who would want to hear from me?

But while the light slowly faded,
the dream never fully died.

Even when I tried to push it down—
even when I told myself it was impossible—
it stayed quietly in the background, waiting.

And then, slowly—
through late-night journal entries,
quiet prayers,
and heart-to-heart conversations with God—
I realized something:

God wasn’t the one who told me to give up my dreams.
I was the one who decided they didn’t matter anymore.
I was the one who let fear and discouragement whisper that I wasn’t enough,
that it was too late,
that it would never happen.

But God?

God was the one who put the dream in my heart in the first place.

Psalm 37:4 says:

“Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.”

I used to think that meant God would grant me my wishes if I loved Him enough.
But now I see it differently.

I believe it means that as we delight in Him,
He plants His desires deep inside us.
Our dreams become His dreams for us.

And those dreams are never wasted.

I’m learning that it’s not too late.
I’m learning that the dream to write was never just about me—
it’s about the message God has given me to share.
It’s about encouraging other women who feel stuck,
who feel like they’ve been left behind,
who feel like it’s too late for them too.

I’m not afraid to dream anymore.
I’m not afraid to open up that old notebook and start writing again.
I’m not afraid to believe that God is still working,
even in this season of my life.

The dream is still alive.
And so am I.

So now let me ask you:

What dream have you been afraid to believe in again?
What’s been holding you back?

Remember—
God hasn’t forgotten your dream.
He’s been holding it safely in His hands,
waiting for you to believe again…
waiting for you to take the first step.

With love and belief in you,