Dreams

“Dreams do come true.”

Reading this message from a friend one particular day hit me like a brick.

We grew up in the same neighborhood and have known each other since we were little kids. We went to the same school, played together, and shared the same friends. We loved music, mimicking variety show stars we envied, listening to radio countdowns after school, and making up dance routines.

I was horse crazy. She was in the marching band. We drifted during high school, following different cliques, but we kept in touch and stayed friends over the years. I think time will do that: keep you tethered to people with whom you share significant history and memories. It’s comforting, especially as you get older.

Decades later, after raising families and working on careers, we both coincidentally moved south, although not close to each other. Pursuing an easy-going lifestyle in our new season of maturity, I planned to continue riding horses, and she moved to a hopping area, enjoying a fun and relaxed retirement.

My pursuit ended after a riding accident shattered not only my bones but my dreams when I hit the ground less than a year after moving. Florida became less and less attractive.

On the other hand, my friend got herself a singing gig and is living her dream. What a trip it must be, performing on a stage, paying homage to her heroes. So exciting! At this stage of our lives, to live out such a dream is incredible. My heart beamed for her.

However, I’m human. She created what seems to be a dream life from the outside looking in. I always admired her confidence and cheerfulness. Always optimistic and upbeat with a boundless sense of humor, she never shied away from being in the spotlight. And she has a FANTASTIC voice. She was, indeed, living her best life.

I was not.

In the Facebook exchange, when I congratulated her on the gig, she responded, “Dreams do come true.”

Bam, my heart sank. Ouch. It hurt.

“Dreams do come true. “

I heard it like a faint, sarcastic whisper from some dark ether-world.

“For her, maybe.” I hated hearing that thought in my head.

 “Not fair” was the next thought that followed.

I hated hearing that thought, too.

My dreams were smashed when I hit the ground in that freak riding accident, along with my bones, ribs, jaw, and punctured lungs. I spent four months on the couch. Ten before turning a decent corner.

My days and dreams of a life revolving around horses came to an end.

Because they had to end.

Not because I chose them to end.

It was a tough pill to swallow.

But swallow it, I did.

I started planning a move that would take me hundreds of miles from my last remaining retired quarter horse, Dusty, the last of my many beloved equines.

I didn’t want to leave him. I wanted him to live his days out in MY backyard. I never wanted his care to be someone else’s. I wanted to be his caretaker—his “mom” forever. Caring for those I love, especially my animals, was my heart's greatest joy.

I was put in a position to look for a place where Dusty could retire happily. Somewhere that he would be well cared for consistently and live his horse days out peacefully and safely, which is NOT an easy situation to find for a horse. Having been a fastidious and dutiful long-term horse owner, exceptional care was something I prided myself on. I was proud to be a steward for the animals that God had entrusted to me.

I eventually found Dusty a fantastic retirement home with ten acres to roam in a small herd. Caretakers who treated him like family, whom I saw he trusted and loved. He had everything he would need for a safe, healthy, and happy home.

Dusty was living his best life.

 Like my friend.

I, however, was not.

Sadly, I lost my dear Dusty in January of 2024. An old health issue caught up with him and proved too much for his aging body.

We laid him to rest under a beautiful, giant, old pine tree on the farm where he had last called home. It was a place where he loved to roam the fields with his herd, especially his “girlfriends,” soaking up the sun, and where he enjoyed his final year of life.

The day I got the call that he wasn’t feeling well, I knew.

Then it occurred to me.

Dusty was my sacrificial lamb to God.

I had given him to God with love and trust and had to move on with my life.

My next thought was that God was making it easier for me to leave Florida. Now, I wouldn’t have to worry about leaving Dusty behind. I wouldn’t have to make plans every few months to drive or fly to visit him, bringing him his special supplements and treats. Not that I would have minded. However, it would have been an enormous undertaking, and my heart would have shattered being so far away from him.

Now, I wouldn’t have that worry.

I experienced a grievous loss and a blessing all at once.

It became very clear that God had other plans for me.  My horse dreams were finished.

For now, anyway.

I don’t know what exactly God has in store for me.

And, although I have moments of sadness and bitterness, they don’t last.

That fact alone is a miracle in and of itself. The fact that I don’t ruminate over everything I’ve lost is astonishing. The fact is, I feel dusted off (Dusty pun intended) and ready to move forward, which surprises even me.

In a way, when I hit the ground on the day of the accident, part of me knew God was in it. Calling me.  Somewhere. I'm not sure where. But He was calling me.

I knew He was calling me away from horses, away from people who were no longer a positive influence in my life, and away from unhealthy habits that no longer served me.

He is still calling me.

Away from some things.

And TO Him, and things HE wants for me.

This is where my focus keeps being redirected.

Back to Him.

My hope is in Him.

My goal is with Him.

My purpose is in His hands.

I just need to keep showing up for Him, spending time with Him, listening to Him, and looking for Him.

And THAT takes daily effort!

Sometimes, hour to hour. Sometimes, minute to minute.

The path is wrought with questioning, constantly deflecting negative emotions. I battle an enemy who wants me to give up, who wants me to live in sadness and rejection.

But I realize my story is not over yet.

Another chapter is waiting to begin.

I am just awakening to the pages.

Most importantly, I realize God is in control. He has a good plan. I need to trust and have faith. I need to continue to work those muscles to stay in His will. Hard as it can be, it is worth the peace and assurance that comes with the work.

I’m genuinely happy for those whose dreams are coming true. I wish them many great days filled with love, laughter, and good health.

My eyes now need to stay focused on the Author and Perfecter of my faith as I continue down the path, away from all I’ve known or thought I knew, in search of what God has in store for me. I need to continue to trust Him and His ways and know that His plan for me is perfect and will produce the most peace and fruit I could ever imagine.

Dreams do come true.

Just you wait and see.