Over the past several years, I’ve established a tradition of creating a ‘Dream Board’ poster. This visual display serves as a daily powerful reminder of the goals I set for myself each year. A 2024 Dream Board goal was to obtain an ASA Sailing Certification. I did indeed get certified, so I thought it would be apropos to use some sailing terminology to help y’all understand the Dream Board’s aim.
My Dream Board is like setting a course for the next 12 months. “Setting a course” means determining the intended direction of travel to reach a specific destination. However, sometimes the direction changes unexpectedly. “Setting a heading” refers to the actual direction the bow of a sailboat is pointed at a given moment, which may differ from the intended course due to factors like wind or current; essentially, a course is the planned path, while a heading is the current direction the boat is facing. So, to continue the analogy, I set my course in January each year with the Dream Board goals, but sometimes life throws some current and wind changes, and therefore the heading differs from the original plan. There’s grace poured out all over my Dream Board, and there is therefore no condemnation when expectations go unmet.
The Dream Board gives me direction and purpose throughout the year.
All that to say: I haven’t created my 2025 Dream Board yet. It’s not because I haven’t been thinking about it (obviously). It’s really because God has been so good to help me reach past goals that I’ve been stumped about what goals to aim for next. After literally decades of struggle in my 20’s and 30’s, I miraculously and astoundingly entered into a season of great abundant blessing. I married a man who loves me selflessly. I earned a Master’s Degree. I traveled. I lost a ton of weight. I learned to sail. I flourished financially. I earned a Master’s Degree. I got an amazing remote teaching job that afforded great flexibility. I ran a successful business where I helped children learn to read. My young adult children did well and love Jesus. Through grace, I’ve accomplished so many things I set out to accomplish.
Let me be clear: I don’t deserve any of these things. God gave them nonetheless, and for that I am grateful. Super duper grateful. However, in the midst of all these great blessings, I sheepishly admit that I’ve felt a bit of emptiness creep into my heart and ennui leech into my routine. This emptiness and ennui has had me thinking of King Solomon.
Solomon was the richest king who ever lived. He was surrounded by everything he could ever want. In 1 Kings chapter 10, we read that he amassed so much silver and gold that the people of Israel considered these precious metals rocks. Rocks! Solomon had a fleet of ships, 1,400 chariots, and an incredible army. He lived in a grand palace, had all the women he could want and more than he could handle. He had horses, a throne, and most importantly, he possessed more wisdom than any other person who has ever lived (save Christ Jesus Himself). Yet among all this opulence and plenty, Solomon penned these bleak words: “I have seen all the works which have been done under the sun, and behold, all is futility and striving after wind.” (Ecclesiastes 1:14)
I imagine Solomon, dressed in his royal purple robe, bejeweled crown on his head, sipping the choicest wine from an expensive golden goblet. He’s on his palace balcony looking out over beautifully manicured gardens. He hears the alluring laughter of gorgeous ladies decked out in fine colorful cloth and adorned with tinkling jewelry- all of them at his beck and call. The sun is setting, the weather is perfect, and his belly is full of the best dinner made by personal chefs. The country is at peace. Given his circumstances, Solomon should be completely satisfied. Instead, a feeling of emptiness and ennui creeps into his consciousness. Somehow, all of these blessings prove- to use his word- futile.
Like Solomon, I’ve gotten a taste of the many good things this earth has to offer. I’ve strived and obtained. While I am so very grateful for these many blessings, I am increasingly and acutely aware that it’s all so. very. temporary. Like the Bible says, I am a pilgrim passing through, and none of what I see and touch will remain. The only things that will remain are relationships with other people, salvation, and my relationship with God. That’s it.
I’ve often imagined myself standing on a bridge spanning a wide river. I throw a rock into the river and watch the splash and subsequent ripples. That rock and its wake represent my impact on this world. I want the rock I throw to be a BIG rock. I want to make a bombastic splash, and I want the ripples to be so wide that they reach the riverbank.
In other words, I want to do something that matters. I want to leave a generational ripple that will affect many. Maybe these are ambitious thoughts, but my faith says they aren’t. The desire to leave an eternal impact for God’s Kingdom has always been there brewing, stewing and percolating in my heart since I can remember. I can only conclude that God put these desires there when He knitted me together, and then He stoked these Kingdom ambitions when He gave me new life in Christ.
When I meet Jesus, I don’t want to show up empty handed. I want to have an offering that makes Him proud. I want to be faithful with the talents He gave me so that He’ll reward me and entrust me with more in eternity (Matthew 5:21). I want my life and my work here to mean something. I don’t want my efforts to be futile like chasing the wind.
Which brings me back to my 2025 Dream Board. I have concluded that it will look a little different this year. Unlike other years, I only have one goal. It is this:
Build an eternal legacy.
And honestly, I have no idea what that will look like. I do know that I will be asking God to give me direction. I know I can’t build a legacy that will leave a large splash without getting and following His marching orders to a “T.” If He says, “Jump,” my response will have to be, “How high?”
This is undeniably a lofty goal, but I know I don’t have to do it alone (Deuteronomy 31:8). Not only will Jesus tell me what to do (James 1:5), He will give me the ability to do it (Philippians 4:13). And THEN He’ll reward me for doing it (Romans 2:6). King Jesus is kind like that.
So, Onward Ho! Course set. Let’s make some ripples in 2025, Jesus.








My son, Noah, recently began running cross country. He loves it! It’s a rare opportunity for him to unleash his magnificent youthful maleness which, for the most part, usually must be contained or kept in check by rules, chairs, desks, and walls. He’s having a blast exploring the world by foot. In fact, Noah and his other cross country friends have campaigned for others to join in on the running fun. Their efforts must have been successful, because two other boys showed up to run for the first time last week.


