Faded Dreams
Since my early teens until I reached about 45,
I had pursued my life's dream of working fulltime
in the Gospel Ministry. There were many aspects
whereby such a dream could express itself and be
fulfilled. For example, after finishing college, I started
pursuing the pastoral, evangelist, or teaching and
administrating in Christian education.
In the beginning of my career, it seems everything was
progressing according to plan. However, within two years,
things began to change, and I graduated into a 'spin-zone'.
I went from 'being on a roll' to 'being on a roller-coaster'.
Someone else's scandalous and nightmarish behavior had
forced my 'good life', 'my dream', to be altered and to change
course.
It is interesting that I achieved a small measure of success
in each of those endeavors, but never reached close to the
capacity of my dream. Like salmons, I learned to swim upstream,
and in so doing, I can say that I experienced qualitative but never
quantitative and professional success. By the time I arrived at the
very prime of my life, having seen the 'Hand Writing On The Wall
as well as 'the fork in the road', I concluded that I had failed in my
efforts toward accomplishing my dream. With little reluctance,
I decided to 'quit the professional ministry' and surrender my
ministerial credentials.
I felt relieved and content as I walked away from my life-long dream,
never knowing what was coming next. What I had lived and worked
some 30 years for, had little to no relevancy in my livelihood, the means
through which I would provide for my family. Faded jeans were in, but my
faded dreams were out. So, supposedly at the top of my game and in the prime of my life, I gave it up. Or, did it gave me up first, leaving me no choice but to walk away?
I operated freely and cordially, with a burning flame deep within, angry with myself far more than with anyone else. My frustrations mounted, and my confidence dropped. Whether it was perceived or actual reality, I stumbled along until I reached what seemed a 'Twighlight Zone'. I felt like I had been betrayed by officials in my denomination. Was I really betrayed, or did
I make unwise career choices? More than anything or anyone else, I was both accusing and prosecuting myself. I neither accused persons nor institutions of deceit, but I was forced to acknowledge that I and the demographics of human frailties had met me head-on, rendering me
me defeated and dead in the waters.
For some 10 years of my life, I bathed myself in the pool of working long hours at my job. The one emotion that I fought hard to resist was bitterness. I had been taught that it was healthy and okay for certain feelings to be vented and expressed, but bitterness was not one of them and should be avoided like the plague. I am certain that had I not resisted bitterness, I would not be writing this piece today. I feel fulfilled writing poems and stories, giving my life away in this manner.
I had a dream that turn into a nightmare. God had a plan that, like David's sling shot, fits and suits me well. I am the grateful one who has been blessed and allowed by God to write and share my life this side of eternity.
062521PSCtest, A Broken Person, Faraz Ajmal
Copyright ©
Curtis Johnson
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