For years I blamed it on the dream. Following that dream was why I crashed and burned, why I nearly had a nervous breakdown, why I made a ridiculous move and then had to come back home in pieces. I distinctly remember the long drive back to my hometown, every mile between me and the departed city adding one more inner vow to the towering heap.

That portion of my birthright got hopelessly tangled in a knot of pain, fear, and a Mercy style determination never to end up in that place again. It has taken much work and healing to begin to untie the knots and rescue the gem from the kinks and snarls.

There is a particular piece of this journey I would like to share because it may have value for those of you who have done the same thing I did.

I confused design with my decisions. When I moved away to the other city I planned on living cheaply, working part-time, living on a strict budget so that I could devote more hours to doing what I dreamed of doing. The budget was truly workable. I did my due diligence in terms of research and I could live on what I made and have free time for other things.

I had not been there long before I began to grow impatient with the restrictions of my lifestyle. I had to use the bus system because I had sold my car. I had to watch my expenditures like a hawk. I couldn’t just hop in the car and go somewhere. And I had too long ignored a dangerous undercurrent regarding my desire for approval and willingness to be persuaded by others.

I didn’t crash and burn because of the dream. I crashed because I lost focus of what I was trying to achieve, because I made bad decisions out of selfishness, because I let others persuade me to choose comfort over calling. The dream was wholly innocent, though it provided a brilliant scapegoat for an opportunistic enemy.

In these recent days, God has sharpened this picture tremendously. I had been making progress in healing, but this piece caused a monumental shift. Not only can I now completely separate my design from immaturity, but I have a profound new respect for the necessity of the things I was lacking at the time. My design and desire to pursue it were evidence of the fingerprints of God. But because of what I lacked in character and maturity I could not bring that potential into reality.

Dreams are not perfect. They have to grow, to mature, to develop, to be honed through revelation. But I wonder how often the enemy pushes us to turn against our design because it was the motivation in the midst of the mess. Do we throw the baby out with the bath water?

You might go back to some of the dreams that are buried in the graveyard or that lie tangled in the knots of pain and bitterness. Is there a gem of design in there? Is there a fingerprint of Almighty God, your Creator? If so, perhaps you could ask Him to help you separate out the design from the decisions. To show you where His design endures even to this very moment, in spite of the decisions surrounding its current state.

And if He has you, like me, on a pilgrimage of stringent growth, celebrate with me in His wisdom in knowing what we really need to accomplish the things He has made us to do. For while He may do some things without us, He does most things through us. We must have within us the strength and fortitude to make decisions that unpack that design, and turn His plan into reality.