You were never For the Woman Who Gives and Gives: The Dream You're Almost Afraid to Say Out Loud

This afternoon I stood talking to an artist, and I heard myself say something I hadn't quite meant to let out. "Oh, I wish I could be a full-time artist like you." And the moment it left my mouth, I felt silly. Small. As though I'd asked for something I had no right to want.

What I didn't know was that this woman had been a counsellor in a former life. So instead of just smiling politely, she gently started to dig. Why did I say that? What did I actually mean? And slowly, she drew out of me the dream I'm almost always too embarrassed to say out loud.

The woman who gives and gives (and quietly disappears)

Maybe you know this woman. Maybe, like me, you are her.

She cares for elderly parents. She cares for her children, long after they've left home. She cares for her husband. She holds everyone together, and somewhere in all the holding, she puts herself so far down the list that she falls off it entirely.

I have watched women do this for years. And I have done it myself. For 34 years I worked as a speech and language therapist, sitting with people who had no voice at all, people who had to find another way to be heard. And every so often a system would decide, "there's nothing more we can do here, we've given up on him." And something in me would rise up and say, "no. You do not give up on him. I will find a way." So I found ways. I gave more than the job ever asked for, for more than three decades.

And then my brother, with his mental health struggles, and I gave out again, and I am still giving. And now, in my work supporting stroke survivors, I don't just tick the boxes. Not long ago I sat with a man who had reached such a low place he had almost lost all hope, and I showed him how to use some new technology, a bit of AI, so he could get back to the thing he loved, lecturing. My husband, gently, asked me, "why did you do all that? That isn't really your job. You could just point him to the right people." And he was right. It wasn't in any job description.

But I couldn't not.

Because women like us just want to solve the problem, and make everyone else happy, even when it costs us our own. "Love your neighbour as yourself," Jesus said (Mark 12:31, NLT). We have the first half memorised. It's the "as yourself" we've quietly forgotten.

The dream I was almost too embarrassed to name

So there I was, being gently interrogated by a kind artist in the middle of an ordinary afternoon, and the truth finally came out.

I don't actually envy anyone's schedule. What I want is this: I want to reach women all over the world who have given, and given, and given, until they've almost neglected themselves out of existence. Women who have forgotten who they really are. Women who set down their dreams so long ago they can't remember where they left them. I want to help them find the dreams, and the purpose, and the gifts that God placed in them, so those gifts can be poured back out into the world for His glory.

And do you see what took my breath away, when I finally heard myself say it? I have spent my whole life helping people find their voice. And the dream God has placed in me now is to help women find theirs.

That is not a coincidence. That is a calling coming full circle.

"For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago." (Ephesians 2:10, NLT). Long ago. Before you were tired. Before you forgot. And "God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases him." (Philippians 2:13, NLT). That longing you keep dismissing as silly? He may well have planted it Himself.

Why do we always feel left behind?

Here is the other thing I have to be honest about.

That same artist told me she is going off to do a one-year Masters in Fine Art. She doesn't fully know why, she just feels called to it. Her husband, who is recovering from cancer, will be left behind while she goes. "That's so brave," I said. And she shrugged and said, "well, I've always been a nomad. I've never really settled. I've always travelled."

And a familiar little ache rose up in me. I can't do that. I wouldn't leave my husband and go off travelling. That isn't me. And just like that, I felt left behind. Further back. Less brave. Someone, somewhere, always seems to be further along than I am.

I'm not judging her, not for a second. That's her life, her calling, her seed. But that's exactly the trap, isn't it... we take our own life and hold it up against someone else's, and we always come away feeling like we're losing a race we didn't even enter.

There's a verse I keep returning to. "Pay careful attention to your own work, for then you will get the satisfaction of a job well done, and you won't need to compare yourself to anyone else." (Galatians 6:4, NLT). Your own work. Not hers.

And near the end of John's Gospel, Peter looks at another disciple and asks Jesus, in so many words, "well, what about him?" And Jesus says something I have to whisper to myself again and again: "What is that to you? As for you, follow me." (John 21:22, NLT).

The nomad and the woman who stays rooted are not in competition. They are simply two different seeds, planted by the same hand, growing at the pace He set for each of them. One is not behind the other. They are just... different. And the only real answer to comparison, the one I am still learning, is to trust Him more. To trust Him with everything. With the timing, with the path, with the parts of my life that will never look like anyone else's.

Say it out loud (even if your voice shakes)

So here is the small, brave thing I want to invite you into this week. Say your dream out loud.

Not the whole plan. Not how on earth you'd ever pull it off. Just name it. Because a dream kept secret in your head can be quietly talked out of existence at 3 in the morning, and no one would ever know it was there to grieve. But a dream said out loud steps out of the shadow of shame and into the light of possibility.

If saying it aloud feels like too much, write it. This is the heart of my Spirit-Led Sketch Method... prepare and pray, just a breath, "Lord, I am here." Then paint or doodle a little green shoot on the page. And beside it, finish this sentence in your own handwriting: "I would love to..."

Those four words slip straight past the part of us that only wants to be sensible, and they get to the truth of what you actually long for. If you'd like to paint along with me through this whole 8-week series, the free Dream in Colour companion is waiting for you at https://creativesoulspace.com/dream.

A small dream of my own

Next week I'm going to see my son, who has just got engaged, and my heart is so full I can hardly tell you. And then I have a course, followed by two weeks of annual leave. Two whole weeks.

And do you know what I found myself daydreaming about? Not a far-flung trip. Not a grand adventure. Just this... waking up in the morning and being free to paint. To seek the Lord without a home visit waiting, or a report to write up. Simply to create, and to listen.

That's it. That's my quiet little dream, said out loud. And naming it, even that small, made it feel real. "Let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father." (Matthew 5:16, NLT). Your gifts were never meant to stay hidden. Neither was mine.

You were never meant to name it alone

Here's the truth about a dream spoken once and then carried home alone... by Tuesday, the doubts have usually argued it away. But a dream spoken in good company gets held by other people when your own hands are too tired to hold it.

That is exactly what Creative Sanctuary is for. It's a community of women, all over the world, weaving faith and creativity back together, and cheering one another's dreams on. No comparison. No one further ahead. Just women remembering who God made them to be, together. The doors are open until 30 July, and if something in you stirred as you read this, I would love you to come and see: https://creativesoulspace.com/creativesanctuarygrace

You have spent so long giving everyone else their voice, friend. It might just be time to find your own.meant to dream alone

If planting this small seed has stirred something in you, and part of you does not want to tend it on your own, I would love to welcome you inside.

Creative Sanctuary is my community of women weaving faith and creativity back together, one honest page at a time... a soft place to land, and a circle to dream inside of. The doors are open until 30 July, and you would be so welcome. Come and see:

👉 https://creativesoulspace.com/creativesanctuarygrace

And if you are not ready for that yet, that is completely okay. Here are two gentle next steps:

🎨 Download the free Dream in Colour companion and colour along: https://creativesoulspace.com/dream

▶ Subscribe to my YouTube channel, Creativity Released, and tap the bell so every Friday's session finds you 

"Take delight in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart." (Psalm 37:4, NLT) He gave you the desire, friend. Perhaps it is time to trust the One who planted it.

📖 The two books behind this series, if you would love to go deeper (affiliate links): Created to Dream by Rick Warren: https://amzn.to/4gfREC9 Dream Big by Bob Goff: https://amzn.to/44JOqjb

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A Space to Bring Your Whole Self

And if you're not quite ready for a retreat but want to begin doodling with God today, start here: creativesoulspace.com/quiet — it's just $7 and it's the gentlest possible first step.

Come and find me at https://christianartjournaling.com/creative2026  ~ there's a whole community of women here who are finding their way back to God, one mark at a time.