Why I Willingly Gave Up My Dream Career

By Tracy Pierson

This is a guest post by my good friend Tracy. She is a fellow full-time missionary with Cru, serving middle and high schools in Chattanooga, TN. She is also a very talented singer/ songwriter. You can read her blog or follow her on Twitter.


In most cases, you lie down and then you dream. In my case, I dreamt only to find that laying down came next.

From the time I was a teenager, I was passionate about music. A self-proclaimed singer-songwriter from the age of 13, music has been my longest relationship. Even when I changed my major from music to education, my desire to perform professionally never waned.

When I gave my life to Christ in high school, I began to see a pattern develop: God would bring the things I loved to the surface, show me that I loved them more than him, and then ask me to lay them down. That was fine when it was shopping or watching “Friends,” but as my love for Jesus grew, the things that crowded Him out were deeper and more entrenched in my heart. In the back of my mind, I kept saying, “This is all well and good, but I don’t know what I’ll do if God ever asks me to lay down a career in music.” I had judged and resented those that I saw around me that had given up their dreams. I drew a line in the sand and said, “That will never be me.”

I don’t typically subscribe to the whole, “Don’t say you won’t ever go to Africa, because that’s exactly where God will send you” mentality that I hear a lot of Christians peddle. I don’t think God’s character is so simple and vindictive. What I do know is that He is jealous. He will never let anything or anyone stand in the place that He rightfully deserves as the object of my affection. In my heart, I knew this would mean that one day, He would approach me and my dream of becoming a musician.

As part of my calling into full-time ministry, I had to choose between pursuing a music career and following God to wherever He was leading. As I sobbed into the carpet of my bedroom, I envisioned my fists clenched tightly around this career that I always wanted—a life married to music. Unfortunately, without opening my fists, there was no room for anything else. A life with what I wanted most suddenly became a life of misery. Simply to ease the pain, I laid down the career in music that I was convinced I was made for.

You may be tempted to call this a moment of weakness. Maybe you’re drawing a line in the sand already and, like me, saying “That will never be me.” It’s tempting to circumvent this process, and truly, a lot of people do. Following your dream is what every American is already doing. But the way of the Cross is consistently one of laying things down. Every disciple is called to Jesus by being called away from something else that has trumped their love for God: whether it’s their livelihood, their father, or their life of sin.

Is it wrong to dream at all, though? According to my logic, God will ask for and take away whatever He finds there, after all. In fear of what we will certainly lose, we can easily be hesitant to unveil our dreams—even to ourselves. As I’ve wrestled with this exact question, I’ve come to this conclusion: Dreams are a gift and so is laying them down.

Only in the process of relinquishing our dreams can we understand the value of what we receive in return: Jesus Himself. In asking for our dreams, Jesus gives us the opportunity to sell everything to purchase the field of treasure. The bigger the dream, the more valuable the treasure must be for us to forsake it. It’s not that our dreams aren’t important to God—they are. In fact, I think He dares us to dream as big as we possibly can, because He intends to surpass them—by leaps and bounds and wild imaginings—with Himself. If we would only loosen the vice-grip on our dreams, then He would fill your arms with the bounty of His presence. I don’t know about you, but that really is a dream come true. 

QUESTION: What is the hardest thing God has asked you to give up for His sake? What was the aftermath? Let me know in the comments below.

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