I first shared this story over at New Author Fellowship back in January with the intentions of sharing it again when my novel is released, and the time has come! As you can see by the countdown clock, Secrets Kept will be here soon, and I’m slowly losing my marbles as I juggle all these crazy, awesome details. So without further ado:
Dreams. What are those? Some of us have them; some of us have lost them.
I’d like to tell you a story of a little boy growing up in Africa who grew up in a mud hut without electricity and had to rebuild it every time it rained. He lived in a place where no one became anything. It was a dead end street, but he had a dream he’d travel the world some day. People laughed at him. Nothing good can come out of Kalingalinga, they said. He thought education would allow him to achieve his dreams. Then his mom died, a year later his dad broke his back. At thirteen years old, he stood at the entrance to his mud hut unable to go to school, his dreams lost to him. Angry with God, angry with life. And now, how was he going to provide for his young sisters?
In the corner of the hut sat his mother’s old, hand powered sewing machine. He owned only three pairs of shirts and two pants, but he took one set and undid the seams and laid them out on the ground. He studied them, putting them together, taking them apart, stitching them back together again. His family thought he was going crazy. Finally, from his mom’s old fabric, he made a suit and then sold it. He had found a way to support his family.
A missionary heard a singing group at a church and promised them if they worked hard, he’d help them to take their story to the world. And he did.
Twenty some odd years later, that boy has traveled all over the United States, been to Canada, Russia, and Great Britain. He has gotten his GED and went on to graduate from an university with a computer science degree. He helped build a school for underprivileged children back in Africa, hoping to break that cycle of poverty and broken dreams. He’s got even bigger dreams now. Only time will tell.
God is bigger than our circumstances, bigger than our dreams. Just ask my husband.
I had lost my dream, but my hubby gave them wings again. He is my biggest supporter. To him, I will dedicate my first novel. When that day comes. 🙂
What do you dream? Do you have someone who supports you? Are you giving wings to someone else’s dreams?