When The Dream Is Broken

When the Dream Is Broken

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed. Psalm 34:18

For years, Mildred had saved a portion from her school cafeteria paycheck with the dream of owning a fabric store. She had made her own clothes since her teens, learned to quilt from her grandmother, and spent Saturday afternoons studying sewing magazines. When she married, she continued making her own clothing and delighted in sewing tiny outfits for the three babies who arrived within four years. And always she envisioned smiling at future customers and helping them select the right fabric for a new project.

When the building that had housed a long-ago general store became available, she was thrilled. With her proud husband looking on, she signed the sale papers and handed over the down-payment check. She wrote another check for the insurance company and gave that to her husband to mail. Then, every spare minute, she painted walls and hung bright curtains at each crooked window. By the time school was out for the summer, her first customers were signing up for sewing lessons.

Then, the night before the first class, she received a frantic phone call from the woman across the road from her little shop: “Your store is on fire! I’ve called the fire department, but they’re not gonna get here in time.”

Mildred and her husband arrived as firemen jumped from their trucks, hooked up their hoses, and sprayed water through a window shattered by the heat. But it was too late. Mildred clutched her husband’s arm as they watched the roof collapse. Soon only a smoldering pile of ancient wood remained.

While the rest of the firemen checked for hot spots in the rubble, the fire chief approached. “I’m sorry this happened, folks. But I’m glad nobody was hurt. Buildings can be replaced. People can’t. Good thing for insurance, huh?”

He turned toward his men, who were spraying the rubble one final time.

But Mildred barely noticed his farewell. For as soon as the fire chief mentioned insurance, she had felt her husband’s arm tighten. She had to know. “Honey, you did mail the insurance check, didn’t you?”

Her husband bit his lip. “I meant to. I really did. But then I got busy and figured you’d need the money down the line. After all, that building stood empty all these years and nothing had happened.”

His voice trailed off as Mildred’s shoulders slumped. After a long moment, she raised her eyes to look once more at the ashes of her dreams and then turned toward the car. —SANDRA

Lord, I keep asking you for the life I want. Now I’m asking you to help me to live the life I have. Help me to see you even through tears. Help me to live this life in your power.

This is not the life I wanted, but it is the life I have.

—2004 INDONESIAN TSUNAMI SURVIVOR