by Misty Dawn
Have you ever given up on a wish?
You know . . . those eyelash wishes.
Have you ever been blending your eye shadow and notice a little eyelash just about to fall from where it belongs?
And you sort of carelessly wipe it away . . . to wherever.
As I was getting ready to have lunch with my husband yesterday, I did it.
I gave up on a wish.
I just blew it right off my finger without a care.
But right as I did it I thought . . .
“man, I could’ve wished for something real good.”
Silly I know. But really, who doesn’t like to wish?
Maybe for some, they’ve just “grown out of it.”
Maybe you’ve grown out of it.
Don’t you remember growing up with all these dreams . . . easily excited by your hopes and fearless to share them with anyone who’d listen.
When was the last time you really believed in the joy that was certainly ahead of you?
Could it be that wishing and dreaming is actually where we belong?
Like the eyelash that has it’s place.
Could it be that hoping for the best actually gets us closer to what our hearts really desire?
Could wishing be the key to our hopes taking form and our dreams taking flight?
Last year a few wise women spoke into my life . . . they told me to go out on a limb, knowing that I could fly. They told me that I already had in me everything that was necessary. I had been a prisoner to my circumstances for far too long, and I was ready. I was ready to break free from it all. And when I jumped off that limb, I took flight. And then I realized . . . it wasn’t that much about my ability to fly as it was my ability to trust.
You see, yes . . . my dreams are taking flight, and the door to my cage was broken, but it’s Him that’s carrying me. He was already ready to take me where He really wanted me to go . . . but I had to trust Him. I had to hope in him. He wasn’t going to shove me off my “safe little limb” if that’s where I was comfortable. He didn’t want to carry me kicking and fighting Him. He wanted cooperation. He wanted my faith in Him.
It’s not that I never had dreams before now . . . it was that I simply didn’t believe in them.
I believed in a God, but I didn’t believe Him.
To be honest, I didn’t really know Him at all.
I didn’t know what He said when He came and made Himself like us.
Able to talk with us, eat with us, worship with us . . .
dwell among us, be our Immanuel.
To be the most influential “man” that’s ever “lived.”
Yeah maybe wishing on an eyelash is a little silly at 29 years old . . . but isn’t it more silly to give up on your ability to wish and moments that remind you to hope and dream for things that only seem beyond your reach?
I think it is.
He probably does too.
So the next time you find yourself an eyelash, give it a little blow . . . and just make a wish. Maybe it’s falling from where it belongs so that you won’t have to.