I have always felt that I was born to be a dreamer. I spent most of my childhood writing and dreaming about my future. I often dreamt about who I would become or changing the world at a young age. Although “what I wanted to be when I grew up” changed quite a bit, what I knew for sure was that I wanted to make a difference.

These were my anchors as a child, and I wrote about them, dreamed about them, daydreamed about them, prayed about them, and cried over them. These anchors made my heart cling to the belief that one day I would fulfill this passion I had. I did not know what that passion was yet, but I did know of a few things I loved to do. One of those things was writing. When I was eight years old, I knew I loved to write. I even sold “newspapers” that I wrote—and my mom made Kinkos copies of—in front of Kroger for 10 cents. I was hooked.

I was dreaming all the time, and I found myself pondering what my purpose was in life. How could I make a big impact on my community? I wondered if the words on my journal pages would pop out and somehow become a reality—at least I wished it was that easy. I wrestled with my dreams being stuck on paper and with believing they could be a reality.

If my parents hadn’t encouraged me to act , I would have become content with just writing about this dream and never daring to launch it. I would’ve just prayed for a long-long-long time and hoped that maybe one day I would have everything I needed to start it without stepping out on faith and trusting God to meet me. It’s easier to dream and dream some more, but it is a different story to step out of the box and trust that the dream won’t always be a dream—that it was meant to be birthed.

There is something sacred about celebrating a new life entering the world. It’s as if the room builds with anticipation to hear that baby cry and take its first breath outside of the womb. Nine months of intense development and intricate design go into creating a new life. Once that baby is born, a whole new adventure begins for the parents; it’s sacred and hard and beautiful.

I think of dreams in the same way. They are not meant to stay dreams—they are meant to be birthed. 

I believe we all have dreams; we are all dreamers in our own way. Maybe your notebooks are full of visions, dreams, and plans. The greater question is: Are any of us actually in labor? You know who you are—there is a tightness in your chest and a lump in your throat and you know it’s time to birth something new. Sis, what are you doing about it? Will your God-given dreams ever breathe life into those around you? People need your music, writing, creativity, business savvy… Whatever you are passionate about, don’t let your dreams fall by the wayside.

Bring them into action. Do something. Trust that God will meet you on the water, and you will not sink.

It takes work for our dreams to come to life. There will be obstacles and challenges, but you must keep moving forward. Make a plan, encourage yourself, surround yourself with people who believe in you, and jump into something new. It’s time.

What is your dream—are you ready to stop stalling and bring it to life?