What is it like to hold a dream in your hands? To see it come full circle. To be grasping the evidence of all you’ve been grasping for. To be feeling, physically, what you’ve been feeling in.your.bones. and only at a distance for some time.
It’s incredible.
I boxed up all my fears and doubts and the ‘why are you even doing this’ as I unboxed 75 paperback versions of a book I wrote.
All of the words. All of the thoughts. All of the hours.
In a book.
Millions of people have written books—so it’s not as if I did something extraordinary in the writing and publishing process. However, no one has ever written my book, from my perspective. No one has ever had my personal experiences with the Lord that became the commentary for all the chapters.
And it’s right here that I’m celebrating today.
I’m equally cheering for anyone who has ever created something from their heart and been brave enough to put it out in the world. It’s a very vulnerable place— knowing you’re potentially willingly walking into both praise and ridicule—all for something you deeply believe in.
No matter the measure of success of the thing or the level of volume of the praise of man over it's publishing, I’m celebrating the birth of a dream. I’m also celebrating, with joy, the death of all the “I could nevers” and the slow head shaking when people would ask, “when are you going to write that book?”
For all the nights I stayed up late and burned the midnight oil, balanced between the delirium of lack of sleep and the energizing momentum of His presence, I’m celebrating.
For all the nights it truly was just a dream. When my spirit would write phrases and topics and concepts that would wake me from a dead sleep. For the pens that ran dry at my bedside. For the incessant tapping of fingers on a keyboard. Now, being able to hold those words...is surreal.
It’s real.
It’s finally here.
I’m holding a dream.
Thanks be to God.
Much love,
-✨ TB