Dream Killer

My teenaged daughter arose from her seat, a little indignant, a little sad. She composed herself to exit the conversation. Then she uttered these parting words, “Why do you have to be such a dream killer?” Visibly upset, but not so upset that she dared to throw eye darts my direction or raise her voice, she retired to her room. She remained composed enough not to slam her door.

Her mother and I had a conversation with just one quick look across the living room, the type of glance veterans exchange in recalling boot camp – a labor pain from which they were birthed new men. Intruding on our wordless conversation, I spoke, “I’ll go up and visit with her in a few minutes. I’ll let her calm down a little.”  I’m sure my wife and I then exchanged some thoughts and observations. I remember conveying how I was actually a little proud that the education which my daughter has had has produced in her the ability to sum up her thoughts with such a powerful metaphor.

My daughter’s dreams are a private matter, so I will not divulge that element of the conversation. But, I had to admit that when she proposed to me her dream, I was a harsh realist rather than a confidant and mentor. Instead of helping her weigh the cost of pursuing this dream (among many which she has), I assessed it with a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-gimme-a-break” dismissive attitude – the kind of look my dad and step-mother gave when 21-year-old-me declared one summer afternoon, “Dad, I think I want to be a politician or a preacher. Do you have any political contacts?”

Upon entering her room, I apologized to my daughter for my cynical realism. She had been right on the money: dream killer. We smiled as we talked about the powerful metaphor; I praised her giftedness with words and for not being disrespectful in the manner with which she uttered the metaphor. Then, we explored her dream. I gave her some facts, a timeline, the cost, etc. We explored many angles on the dream. My honest confession and humility opened the door for her earnest contemplation, analysis, and forethought. Could she accomplish the dream? Yes. We agreed certain steps and sacrifices would have to take priority. I took her seriously and she appreciated my advice.

In hindsight, I forgot a couple of my cardinal principles in rearing my children:

• They are persons made in the image of God, worthy of my respect, with dreams and talents “on loan from God” (Gen. 1:27-28);
• They are maturing little adults; if I make their decisions for them instead of acting as a facilitator of their own wise thinking and assessment, how will they learn? (“For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down and count the cost?” ~ Luke 14:28.)
• My children’s aspirations – what they are really thinking on the inside – give me insight into who they are and who they may want to become;
• Considering future goals is a prayerful enterprise; all major decisions and pursuits are opportunities to submit our dreams and desires to God (“Many are the plans of men, but the Lord directs our paths.” ~ Proverbs 16:9);
• A dream is a goal – most things worth pursuing take hard work; these types of conversations could propel further that value in them (“But the hand of the diligent makes rich.” ~ Prov. 10:4b.);
• Their seeking my opinion ought to be lauded as seeking wise counsel (“Listen to counsel and receive instruction, that you may be wise in your latter days.” ~ Prov. 19:20.).