Dreams.

Last year, during one of those long fall/winter days where your hands are too numb to write, I was eating lunch with my best friend, Jacob.  I remember telling him about how I wanted to be a doctor.  I wanted to travel around to help people who truly needed it.  People who had one other option; death.  I wanted to go places where everyone was trying to escape after tsunamis and hurricanes and earthquakes and help the broken people.  I wanted to do what Christ did, but with modern day medicine.  I hit my chemistry class the next day running.  Suddenly, my life had a purpose and the homework didn't seem so terrible anymore because, one day, I would use it all to change lives.  That night, I told my mom and my step-dad about the dream over dinner.  For some reason, I can't rem
ember what my mom said, but my step-dad crushed my dream.  Absolutely and completely crushed it.  He said there was no way I could pay off the bills of college by doing something that made so little money.  He ridiculed the passion I suddenly felt to serve.  The worst part is he was successful.  I gave up the dream.  Tucked it away with all the stupid, ambitious, child ones I'd had in the past.  Today, I pulled it back out.  Suddenly, my homework doesn't look so bad.  I know I can do this.  I can get a full-ride scholarship to a nice, christian school and I can become a doctor without a border.  I can live my dream, if it is also God's dream for me.  Philippians 4:13.