Social media and blogs swarm with chatter about dreams: God-sized dreams; steps to making dreams come true; ways to succeed in your dreams; avoiding the pitfalls of failing at your dreams; encouragement to continue when it seems your dreams are crashing.

Ten years. That’s how long it took for my dream of songwriting and recording to be fulfilled. Last year, I discovered a spark of the dream I thought had died, and flames quickly grew.

I prayed about it..over and over. Often, there was clear direction: the songs came together quickly; the funds to record were available; my producer/co-writer and I shared the same passion for telling messy, yet grace-filled stories through music. I never felt the hand of God stopping the process.

Was I naieve? Did I hear what I wanted to hear? Believe what I wanted to believe?

What happens when dreams come true, only to see them crumble? What happens when you’ve invested your heart, soul, time and resources only to fail? What happens when you’re a mother to three children, trying to raise them while trying to live out your dreams, but have no support system?

I’ve learned that just because God allows a dream to be fulfilled doesn’t mean He’ll bless it or make it fruitful. But I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to take away from this experience. All I know right now is that I’m disappointed heartbroken.

I’m lost because what I believed was a God-sized dream…what He repeatedly told me was bigger than myself…seems to be over before it ever really began. While the past year has been wonderful and exciting, I’ve faced and overcome challenging battles. I certainly didn’t imagine the process would come to a screeching halt just when it should be taking flight.

So now I struggle to find contentment in letting go and giving up. I wonder how I’ll survive without the daily hope that He’ll make music through me. I wonder if I can go back to my world solely revolving around washing laundry and dishes, making beds, sweeping floors…without a new song running through my head or escaping from my lips. I wonder if I’ll isolate myself because it’s too difficult to watch others’ dreams flourish.

I have a lot of questions for God that He’s just not answering. He’s silent. And I’m slipping back into my old ways of thinking: is He angry with me because I didn’t follow through on what I believed He was telling me several years ago? Is He waiting for me to do what I consider to be the most difficult thing in the world?

I’m struggling to believe that God has plans for me…well, plans other than being a housewife and mother. Don’t get me wrong…I cherish those roles, but I wonder how I can go back to living and fulfilling them while my dreams once again return to ashes.