Yes I admit it, the Espy Awards make me cry.  No it was not Justin Timberlake that made me want to cry. (although he was hilarious and was killing it with all his jokes and antics).  It is those doggone year in sports montages.  Something about the music, the memories, the magic that gets all rolled into one.  But I recognize that when the triumphal music combines with the images of victory and anguish, pain and grit, yearning and realization, that something happens deep inside of me.  Something in me is awoken.  Something in me is stirred.  I feel like I am being turned inside out.  My inner longings are being met.  And I realized this, that those moments are about…

dreams.

dreams being fulfilled.

dreams being lived.

And that wrecks me.  It conjures up all sorts of hopes and dreams that lie in me, some dreams that are dormant, some dreams that have been crushed and some that are blossoming into new life.

These images cause me to want to dream again.  To dream farther, to dream deeper, to dream dangerously, in the hope that one day my dream will become a reality.

Cause without our dreams what are we?  Skin jobs who fulfill the duties of the lives that we are given.  Dreams say I will live beyond my means today and make life meaningful.

So the question is what is your dream?  What is my dream?

And what are we doing about it?

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