Each one has a dream to pursue – career, wealth, recognition, a big house, flushy cars, savings, or doing good for others.
Being the first girl in the family, my parents had great dreams for me. They wanted to see me live their dreams.
But fate was not kind to me. Neither was it generous to my wants and desires.
My dreams were shattered. I was defeated by an invisible energy that sucked everything of my being and pulled me down. My dreams flew faster than the wind that throws one out of a glass window.
Tears would not be enough to make up for lost dreams. Tears would not bring back lost time, lost resources, and lost opportunities. Worse, tears would not restore a broken jar of clay.
It is only clay that remains in the broken jar. It reminded me that man, after all, is highly vulnerable to changes. I should not have been complacent. I should have remembered that when the jar breaks what remains is humiliation.
I was deeply humbled. The dreamer fell into a very dark pit. Was there hope?
Only God knew back then.