“Is this really my life?” Wisdom for Broken Dreams
by Alli Patterson
Sophia is the Greek word for Wisdom, and Propel Sophia seeks out the voices of truly wise women and asks them to share worked examples of how they express faith in daily life. Pull up a chair at Sophia’s table, won’t you? There’s plenty of space. Learn more here.
I hate unloading the dishwasher. It’s the chore that irritates me most: a never-ending cycle. That particular Tuesday I’d had enough. I thought “What am I Doing?! What a waste of my life to be standing here unloading the freaking dishes! Again!”
I was mad. I was mad this was my job. I was mad that I wasn’t doing something else. I was mad that I had no idea how long I’d be doing it. I was mad at God that He’d sent me home to shrivel up and die here. I was mad my gifts were going to waste. I was mad that I didn’t get to learn, work outside my home, engage my brain, or even read much. I was mad that I conversed with very few other adults as 20 hours/day ticked by in 45-minute increments of the naps, feedings and preschool schedules of four very young babies...who dirtied an awful lot of dishes. I’m tempted to diverge at this point and tell you how much I adore my kids. And I (really really) do. But that particular day it didn’t matter. I was melting down, practically throwing the dishes back into cabinets.
It was as though a curtain of black had fallen about 6 inches in front of my face. I couldn’t see even a step in front of where I was. I didn’t believe I had a future beyond this. All I could see around my life was death and dying... the death of jobs, talents, friends and dreams that had gone with some life I could no longer access. I knew I’d decided to stay home in response to Jesus: it was what I’d strongly felt God nudging and pressing on me to choose for a season of time. I sensed He had purpose in it for me. I wanted to follow Him, but here I was a couple years in and still sliding downhill with no end in sight. I knew I was being obedient, but that wasn’t enough. I was mad about where I was. Underneath the mad, was total confusion about what the future held. I was blind to two things: My own pride. And suffering.
God was trying to lower me, to strip me down, to tell me that the world could go on without me. He wanted me to let go of what I was clutching...to the dreams I had and to the life I thought was mine to live. I was in a heroic struggle with pride, and I didn’t even see it. Pride blinds us to its presence, and—either willingly or unwillingly—when we are loved by God he has to deal with the presence of pride, entitlement, expectations inside us. My favorite passage in Philippians (2:6-11) describes Jesus intentionally releasing his rights. He could have held on for dear life to his majesty, his comfort, his peace …. His life. But instead he gave them up so that something bigger and more beautiful could take place.
Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
7 rather, he made himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
8 And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
by becoming obedient to death—
even death on a cross!
9 Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
10 that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
11 and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.
God’s intention was for me to suffer, and I did suffer. Lurking in me was a sense of entitlement to be intellectually fulfilled, assumptions that all my gifts would be used, expectations that I’d experience a strong sense of purpose and be fulfilled in work that would amount to praise. For me. It was eating me up from the inside. I needed to release my rights to the life I wanted.
Not long after my dishwasher meltdown, I had an interaction with God I will never forget. It is the saddest moment in our relationship and probably the most beautiful. I came to him in my anger and sadness. I suddenly imagined that I was holding a heart—a human heart—in my hands. It was alive and beating. It represented all that I’d wanted, worked-for and called my own. It also represented what I had previously thought he wanted for me - the work in the Kingdom that I thought he’d called me to. I held my future and dreams in the palm of my hands. I set the heart on the floor. I was terrified. I slowly watched the heart stop beating and said “I give up. I can’t keep this alive anymore. It’s not working. I don’t know what you are doing with me but if there’s anything left, then You’ll have to keep it alive.” My tone was sad and resigned and a touch bitter. I pushed the heart towards God and watched the heartbeat slow and come to a stop. I began to turn around. Out of the corner of my eye I caught one small flutter of a heartbeat. And I walked away.
For a couple of years after that, I would catch a glimpse every now and then of that tiny, almost imperceptible heartbeat - in a dream or while I was praying. I would tell God I was pretty sure it was completely dead now. And I moved on, caring for my babies, loving my home and slooooowly arriving at a place of real peace that only suffering and waiting and surrender can offer.
It may sound mean to say God purposely put me in a place of suffering, but it was actually His kindness to me. It rebuilt me into a woman of grace. Suffering and waiting set me up for a future of gratitude; for a future where I saw His gifts more clearly, and for a future where I couldn’t easily mistake His work for my own. I also learned the critical nature of a functioning home and what it took to keep the hearts of my family healthy. I needed all of what He did in me for nearly 7 years in preparation for the day when He would perform CPR on those almost-dead dreams. He wanted me to see it all as grace and to live life for what it is: a gift of love from a faithful Father.
Be still, my beating heart, and know I am God (Psalm 46:1)
Alli Patterson
Alli Patterson is a Teaching Pastor at Crossroads Church, out of Cincinnati, Ohio. She is also a writer and host of a podcast called IKR?! (“I Know, Right?!”). Alli loves her husband and four amazing kids more than anything in the world (besides Jesus). She enjoys running, kickboxing, reading and baking to keep her sane while working on her masters degree at Dallas Theological seminary. Her passion is learning and communicating the Word of God to speak its hope and life into others. Follow her on Instagram or join her community of listeners.
