If someone were to come to me and tell me that I would be guaranteed to have the job of my dreams until the day I died, that I could never lose it, but that I could also never change it, what would I chose?
Piece of cake. No questions. No second guess. As sure as breathing, I would pick being a hospice chaplain.
Just before I typed that several other interests came to mind. I love speaking at retreats. I loved preaching. I enjoy writing. I pondered them for a while, allowing my mind to think and dream, but none held the contentment for me of my original choice.
The saddest part for me is that it can't happen. I wonder if Moses felt this way as he watched the children enter the Promised Land? I bet he knew he could lead them so much better given what he knew now, given what he'd been through with God. I wonder how he found peace. I wonder how he came to terms. I wonder...
I can't have my dream. So I've stopped dreaming. Having no dreams is a lousy way to be.
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