I have endless dreams. I’m not talking about the types of dreams you have at night while sleeping. I’m talking those endless dreams you have while awake in the middle of the night, unable to sleep.

For example:

Somehow, I have been unable to shake the idea that a dream and adventure combined in a lifetime can become reality. Maybe it’s because I stay awake longer than I should at night. Maybe it’s because I found out that dreams actually can come true after a year of investing in what I deeply love.

I keep thinking about the moments I loved best while I was away, trying to piece together meaning on why. The answer always comes in the form of this conclusion: Helping out the people who were building and breathing something to life from actual death was good and powerful. It breathed Kingdom. There’s a reason I loved going back to Cambodia to help out with the hostel in Siem Reap this past March… It was a place that had once been dead but was slowly being brought back to life. While my team’s part in that process was not necessarily known or seen in the grand picture, it still brought life and encouragement to the people whose feet happen to be planted there full-time.

I’ve begun to let my mind run wild thinking about all the things I have to offer based and founded in my God-given identity and calling. I’ve begun to piece together things that give me life like driving, the giving of my heart, pouring it back out in writing for whoever reads it, and breakfast/pizza (because I’m really passionate about breakfast and pizza).

I don’t think I’ve told anyone, but many nights when I was in high school, I’d remain up late into the night dreaming of owning my own small diner that would be open 24/7 offering breakfast at all times, beds for travelers on the go, and (now a recent development) all the pizza you could possibly think of. I also dreamed of having an art studio to create inside. Even more so, I’d dream of traveling on the road to sing and play. Now, I still dream of all those things, but I also want to write a book that will one day be published while simultaneously living an erratic lifestyle of freedom and joy, helping out where I need to be at any given moment.

Lack of money has not stopped my heart from running wild and I pray every day that my heart never loses that wild freedom and abandon for everything it believes in. My dreams change from day-to-day and week-to-week, but I believe it's a part of how God created me, and I believe it's the reason I need other dreamers and doers to come alongside me and do the dreaming with me. There is greater importance in doing life and living dreams with and alongside others. Doing it alone just gets lonely and I also dream of the day I can find a group of people to dream and do these things with.

As I look back on my childhood — on my little spectrum of life, really — I feel in the depths of my heart the strange fascination I've always had with the management of condo’s, hotels, airports, restaurants, studio’s, anything that involves the in-between of travelers and other dreamers alike going to and from anywhere. (If I could properly explain the excitement going to an airport, being in the air, driving, being anywhere and everywhere, checking into a new place, etc… gives me - well, you’d probably think I’m crazy).

I don’t really know how it all fits together. I’m still in process, dreaming it all up as I continue to grow and change. I’ve always loved sitting down and hearing other people’s stories and encouraging them. Having a place where people could essentially come, stay for a while, and create a lasting memory — like a family diner, for example — would be my small little way of saying to the world “hey, you’re welcome here and I’m eager to hear your story and where you’ve come from.”

When I’m unable to sleep at night, this is where my heart and mind tend to wander. I begin wondering about the other wanderlust-filled hearts seeking a place of refuge and warmth. I wonder what their life looks like as they seek whatever it is that they are trying to find. As I mentioned, I don’t really know how it will all come together, but I’m coming to believe that it’s not the end-result that truly matters. What matters is the trying. What matters is the dreaming and the failing. What matters is the getting up, asking for help, and bridging gaps to bring life in small ways to all the dreams running wild in the depths of my heart.