Unlocked

Unlocked

Recently, I had one of the most vivid dreams of my life. It felt completely real. In the dream, my family and I were traveling through the mountains because I had been invited to preach at a church far away. Along the way, our vehicle broke down and we found ourselves stranded in a whiteout. We tried everything to keep moving forward. We hiked. We even built a makeshift sled to get down part of the mountain. But eventually it became clear that we were not going to make it. That realization weighed heavily on me. I knew where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do, but no matter how hard I tried, I simply could not get there.

Eventually, we found shelter at a beautiful ranch where other stranded travelers had gathered. The main building was warm and inviting, filled with wood, comfortable furniture, a giant fireplace, and people caring for one another. Families huddled together with blankets and cocoa while staff worked tirelessly to make sure everyone was safe. As I took it all in, I wandered over to a piano sitting quietly in the corner. When I opened the piano, instead of sheet music I found Bibles. As I turned the pages, I saw beautiful illustrations of ordinary people facing struggles, fears, disappointments, and hardships. The stories of Scripture had been connected to modern life in a way I had never seen before.

As I looked at the pages, I began to play. Music flowed effortlessly. Words followed. I started singing the stories I was seeing, and the songs were beautiful. There was no striving, no frustration, and no struggles. It simply poured out of me. People gathered around, and together we worshiped.

After a while, someone placed a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and standing there was Michael W. Smith, an artist I have admired for most of my life. He invited me to take a walk and explained that the ranch belonged to him. As we walked through rows of freshly tilled fields, he asked me questions about my life, my calling, and who I was. I remember being excited to answer because I respected him so deeply. Then he shared something unexpected. He told me he had heard the music I was playing and wanted my family and me to stay at the ranch with him. He said he wanted to create music together.

What struck me most was not the invitation but the reason. He said he had learned to surround himself with good people and that he saw something valuable in me, not because of what I had accomplished, but because of who I was. Then he handed me the keys to a home on the property and told me it was for my family. The overwhelming feeling was not success. It was acceptance. I had been given something I could never earn. I did not have to prove myself. I did not have to achieve more, write more, perform more, or become more. I was welcomed simply for who I was.

When I woke up, what stayed with me was not the ranch, the piano, the Bibles, or even the conversation. It was the feeling. I lingered there for a long while after waking. It felt like I had stepped into a place where nothing was fighting against me anymore, where the gifts God had placed inside me could finally flow without resistance.

The older I get, the more I realize that much of life’s effort is spent pushing against limitations. We do our best to serve God faithfully. We work hard. We create. We sacrifice. We answer His call as best we can. Yet there always seems to be something holding us back. Perhaps it is the brokenness of this world. Perhaps it is our own weakness. Perhaps it is simply the reality of living on this side of eternity. Whatever the reason, most of us know what it feels like to fall short of the person we long to become.

That is why this dream affected me so deeply. It felt like a glimpse of heaven, not because there were beautiful buildings and not because a famous musician welcomed me, but because for the first time there was no gap between who God created me to be and what I was able to become. Maybe that is one of heaven’s greatest promises. One day, standing in the presence of Christ, every barrier will be removed. Every limitation will fall away. Every gift, every calling, every good thing God placed within us will finally be exposed and expressed exactly as He intended. The striving will be over. We will be fully known, fully loved, fully complete, and finally unlocked.

I recently sang Enough, a song that connects deeply with this reflection. In Christ, we are not lacking. We are held, loved, and complete.

Watch the team sing Enough | Christ Is More Than Enough here: