Langston Hughes wrote of a dream deferred. The thing is, a dream deferred is not gone completely. To take every word at its definition, Hughes writes of a dream postponed. What's maddening, though is the feeling of loss - you know, intellectually, the dream isn't actually gone. You know it's just postponed and the possibility - however small - is still there. This doesn't change the devastation. This doesn't stop the drying up of hope and the exploding sound of a dream forgotten.
I know this feeling.
I woke this morning with the heavy feeling of disappointment settled on my chest. There are days through this whole process where it stings deeper than others, and today I just want it all over. I'm done with waiting. I'm done with the leftovers and am ready for the whole He makes beautiful things out of dust to seem a little more real. A little more concrete.
And I know, based on some of what I've been learning in our gospel counseling class, that these feelings can't be "trusted" and that they probably almost certainly stem from some idol rearing his ugly head. But that's a post for another day, and here's the truth of right now: I don't need to hear about timing because for someone who is living in the tension of wait the concept of time seems a little harsh.
So today I'm a little raw. Today I don't quite understand the pause button - the deferment of a dream I've held so close for so long. I know one day I will. But today? Today it's hard.