I enjoyed hanging out by the water. I would sit there for hours and stare at my reflection. There I was, looked nothing like a pretty ballerina dancer. Reflections don't lie. Once the waves would come, my reflection was gone. Washed away just like my dream to dance. I sat there staring at the water, hoping that my reflection would reappear and be different.
As I grew older, I began to realize that the reason my dream was even born in the first place, was because it was something that was inside of me. The dream I had was never nurtured and cared for, so it slowly died. It's not that I wanted it to die, but I allowed it to die the day I started listening to the words, "You can't do it." When I finally woke up from many years of dreaming, I realized that you can't settle for dancing in the wildflowers, you have to move on to the platform. I still go to the lake sometimes and sit there. Looking at my reflection is different now too. When I was young, I looked at how others saw me, now that I am older and wiser; I look at how God sees me.
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