Four years ago, when I was eighty-four, I wrote a reflection called I Have a Dream
I wrote about Abraham leaving familiar country for a land he had never seen. I wrote about Moses and Joshua—men whose greatest assignments did not arrive when they were young. And I wrote about being a late bloomer.
I earned my first degree at thirty. Married Tanya at thirty-six. Completed my Ph.D. at forty and my Doctor of Ministry at eighty-three.
At eighty-four, I said I still had books to write and messages to deliver.
Now I am eighty-eight.
The books did not remain dreams. Some are between covers. Others are becoming manuscripts. I continue teaching—now often inside a prison chapel, among men who need to know that failure does not disqualify them from a future with God.
The prophet Joel declared:
“Your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions.”
—Joel 2:28 NKJV
Perhaps the dreams of older men and women are meant to release vision in those coming behind them.
Not every dream that passes through the night carries a message from heaven. Dreams must be prayed over, tested, and surrendered. But sometimes God plants a desire, an image, or an assignment that refuses to leave us alone.
It keeps returning.
Not to torment us—but to invite us.
Four years ago, Tanya and I were preparing to spend our first night in our new home in Lufkin, Texas. Today, we are preparing to place that same home on the market.
Life moves.
Dreams mature.
Assignments change.
Perhaps “there” was never a particular house, city, book, or achievement. Perhaps “there” is simply the next place obedience takes us.
At eighty-eight, I still have dreams.
Some have been fulfilled. Some have changed shape. Some are still waiting for me to take the next faithful step.
And I am not finished dreaming yet.
Neither are you.
Spiritual Wanderings 