Dreams aren’t made of shimmering fairy clouds, castles in the air. They’re made out of blood and sweat and tears - how far are you willing to go for this dream of yours?
It was a passing comment in last week’s sermon, but Pastor Doug Norwood mentioned the passage about the lame man who was waiting at the pool called Bethesda for the angel to stir up the waters of healing.
When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?”
“Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.”
That’s what we do, isn’t it? When someone asks us how much we want something, we end up giving excuses about why we don’t have it, or can’t.
And then Dr Peter Daniels, in yesterday’s sermon, mentions Caleb and how at 85 years of age, he says, “Now therefore, give me this mountain”. Give me this mountain. Let me take it up as my challenge, as my right, as mine. It won’t be easy. It’s a mountain. It’s a giant. But it’s mine for the taking.
Now therefore, give me this mountain of which the Lord spoke in that day; for you heard in that day how the Anakim were there, and that the cities were great and fortified. It may be that the Lord will be with me, and I shall be able to drive them out as the Lord said.”
So give me this mountain.
Give me the impossible sphere of performance arts that nobody understands.
Give me the dance that draws Your Spirit to hover over our assembly in worship.
Liberate my feet, loose my hands, pour forth the words that speak Life.
I am hungry.