When dreams burst just before the finish line

Have you ever had the experience of something beautiful being within your grasp and then falling through? That's exactly what I painfully experienced on a trip to New Zealand.... but then things turned out differently than expected.

A pāua shell in my hand

On my first day in New Zealand, I saw a beautiful, shimmering blue pāua shell at a friend's house and wished and even prayed that I would find one just like it.

A few days later, the time had come: I found a beautiful shell on an island beach and held it in my hand in amazement.

But less than 10 seconds later, the guide said that you weren't allowed to take anything with you in this nature reserve. I asked:"Not even a shell." He confirmed: "Yes, not even a shell!"

When dreams burst

It was "only" a beautiful shell, but it almost brought tears to my eyes with disappointment. I had hoped, prayed....and then it seemed to work out. But it burst again when I was already holding the object of my wishes and prayers in my hands.

I've experienced this several times in my life: it seemed that I was close to having my prayers answered and then it fell through again.

• After many years of endeavour, the Publisher finally started to rise, then it collapsed again.
• One man seemed to be the answer to my prayers after a long wait - and yet he disappeared from my life again.
• The new book Cast off could now bring the breakthrough - but then fell short of expectations.

The list of my almost-answers to prayers, almost-fulfilled dreams and almost-successful projects is long. The list of disappointments is just as long.

It's bad when an idea doesn't work out. But it's even worse when a dream bursts just when fulfilment is within reach.

When I put the mussel back on the line, I not only put a mussel in the gravel, but also the next bitter experience: Now it's happened to me again.

Hope continues after shattered dreams

Hope dies last. Somehow it seems to lie deep within us not to want to give up hope. And so I couldn't help but ask God again and again over the next few weeks that I would find one after all.

Of course, I kept looking for pāua shells every time I went for a walk on the beach. But the only ones I saw were in towns. There, the shells were available in tourist shops, unnaturally polished and expensive. My own search was unsuccessful. All I found on the beach was gravel.

Ron Parrish, the author of a book about the whole creative, practical, spiritual exercises encourages us in his book to pray old prayers anew. Prayers that have been prayed for a long time, but then given up because they were not answered, to bring them to God again.

So I wrote my list of dozens of "unsuccessful" prayers in my diary and submitted my wishes and requests to God again. Not all of them. Just one at first.

I began by praying for the missing employees in my Publishing team on. I can't realise some of the things I dream about because I don't have the right people to do them. For years.

I walked along a wide sandy beach and dared to pray again: "Lord, I need support in organisation and marketing. Bring me together with the right people for this."

Completely surprisingly, I found a small, beautiful pāua shell right after the "Amen". Petite. Half the size of my hand. I was touched to find it just as I dared to climb out of my frustration and lay my concerns before God again.

That touched me deeply - even at this particular time. God hears me.

At the same time, I was honestly a little disappointed because it was so puny. Not as big as half a child's head as the one I had first seen and not half as big as the one I had to leave lying around. But I hadn't prayed for a big shell, just one at all.

I revised my prayer: "Thank you, sir, for this shell. But to be honest, I'd like a bigger one. I'm asking you to help me find another one."

The next day I had the inner impulse to go to a certain corner of the beach and climb over the rocks there. I found paua shell no. 2 in a crack in the rock, and it was really big. A few metres further on I found the next one. Then another one. And another one. One more beautiful than the other. 

Over the next few days, the beautiful shells fell into my hands almost every day. I ended up with so many that I gave a good dozen away to children at a campsite because I couldn't take them all with me. 

Now the precious shells decorate my home. When I see them, I remember that God answers prayers, even if it sometimes takes much longer than I would like. 

And just a few weeks after the holiday, I got in touch with a young woman who was unable to continue her self-employment as a children's make-up artist due to corona. She supported me for two years with her expertise in publishing until she went back into self-employment.

When that happened, I was a little sad to lose such a good colleague again, but it no longer affected my faith and my trust that God meant well with me.

I was able to let go - albeit with some pain. And trust again that things would turn out differently.

How do you experience that?
What gives you the strength and courage to keep hoping when dreams burst?

Please write me your thoughts. I'm looking forward to your comment.

And: If you need support to finally let go of old pain and deep disappointments, I will be happy to support you with compassion and coaching. Experience here more.