Sometimes I feel like I’m achieving this dream–this dream of being a “songwriter”–whatever that means. But most days I feel like it’s just out of reach–slightly unattainable. I can see it… but I can’t reach it.

What is “it” that I’m reaching for? I don’t know. Is it that one publishing opportunity? That one artist that slaps one of my tunes on an album? That one church that snatches up something I wrote?

Does that make me a real songwriter?

Then, the smart me starts saying “Hello? What makes me a songwriter is writing. If I’m writing, then I’m a songwriter. Who cares how many people appreciate the music. Am I doing it for them? Or am I doing it because I love it and believe in it?”

Right.

Of course.

I’m always right.

But the other part of me–the part of me that longs for some stability–for some validation in this non-lucrative dream I’m pursuing–the other me says that one day I’ll have to wake up and stop dreaming. One day I’ll have to face reality–and when that day hits, I’m going to be nothing but a person who once pursued the life of a songwriter.  I’m going to be a wannabe.

Dreams. Dreams are so flipping hard to chase. The reason they’re called “dreams” is that they’re not reality. And yet, in this world of the American Dream, where we see people bring their dreams to reality, we believe.

And there’s a God who puts dreams in each one of us.

So what do we do? Do we keep dreaming and striving to bring those dreams to life? Or do we one day wake up to the undeniable reality that has overshadowed our “dream” and tell ourselves that this must not have been the right dream all along…?