Life isn't like a Disney movie where we know after a grand adventure the villain will be killed or banished and everyone will live happily ever after.
No matter what Cinderella says, our dreams will not come true just because we believe in them.
A dream of mine just died.
Actually, it has been dying. It was a slow, painful death that I only made worse by still holding onto it as it began to decay.
Eventually, I had to let it go.
First, I was mad at God. How could He let this dream die?
Then I was mad at Cinderella. How can you sweetly sing, "No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dreams that you wish will come true"?
Then I was mad with myself. How could I have let this dream become bigger than my love for my Savior?
But at my lowest point after my internal tantrum was done, after I fully acknowledged the death of my dream, as I sat in my chair numb, all I could hear was the Holy Spirit whispering, "Come to me."
Have any of your dreams died?
How did God meet you in that situation?