This is the season of acorns.

Every fall, I encounter them, a familiar note in the symphony of the autumn woods.  I roam the arching corridors of the flaming forests, shuffling through the papery carpet of fallen leaves.  And there, rolling about under my feet, are the acorns, like forgotten marbles from a game of the woodland angels.  

They’re plenteous now, but all summer they’ve been practically invisible.  First they were nothing more than tiny buds on the fingers of the branches.  Then the buds gave way to the atypical “flowers” of an oak tree, pollen-dusted catkins swinging in the spring breezes.  And from this embryonic form, infant acorns stretched—tiny and timid and the velvety green of growing things.  But autumn is their time to ripen, to perfect their polished brown shade, to be released from the trees like a gift.  In fact, if I’m in just the right place on a windy day, I can watch them showering down, see them releasing their hold on their parent oaks and bouncing to the forest floor.  

It’s amazing to me that although these little items are commonplace, they are, in a quiet way, stunningly unique.  What most people don’t realize is that not all acorns are created equal; my home state of Arkansas features a staggering twenty-nine different species of oak trees, and each of them produces acorns in a signature style.  Some have tapered forms, elongated and elegant.  Others are fat and round, cheery cheeks shining.  Some are no bigger than my thumbnail, while others are giants the size of golf balls, with magnificent furry toppings.  But despite their external variations, all acorns share the same basic design:  a jaunty cap perched atop a sleek shell.  

But acorns are more than just interesting objects to observe; in the ecology of the forest, they serve a variety of vital, if unsung, functions.  For one thing, they’re a primary food source for wildlife; over a hundred species of animals including deer, bears, ducks, and rabbits glean valuable calories from nutrient-rich acorns.  Wildlife scientist Roger di Silvestro jokes that “the acorn is the cheeseburger of the forest ecosystem—fairly easy to find and nicely packaged.”  And when animals consume acorns, they contribute to the nut’s second function: fertilizer.  Shell fragments and crushed acorns join the litter of organic material, called “mast,” on the forest floor; the purposes of mast are varied but include enriching the soil, harboring beneficial invertebrates, and promoting the growth of new vegetation.  

Food and fertilizer are important functions, but the acorn’s primary purpose is not only the most famous but also the most inspiring:  to grow an oak tree.   

The process by which an acorn grows into an oak is nothing short of miraculous.  Inside that tough external capsule nestles the oak tree’s most precious offering:  its seed.  If the acorn comes to rest in the right conditions—nutritious soil, adequate moisture, and ample sunlight—then the outer shell will crack.  A tiny root will burrow its finger into the loam, and a miniature set of twin leaves will reach skyward.  These humble beginnings are the first shoot and root of the oak.  Over time, four or five years to be exact, the root system will develop, and branches will sprout farther.  By the end of that period, a sapling oak will be standing over the heart of the former acorn.  

It’s impossible to hear this information without gaining a whole new perspective on acorns.  Instead of scuffing them underfoot, I sometimes pause and gently extract one from the forest floor.  I brush it clean with my thumb and wrap my fingers around its lightweight design.  And with awe, I realize that I’m cradling a hundred-foot oak in my hand.   

It’s amazing when you think about it:  the life of an acorn doesn’t come from itself.  The stylish cap and slender body don’t hold any power of their own.  There’s nothing about the acorn itself that gives it life.  What keeps it alive is that it holds something bigger than itself.  

Could the same be true for us?

You see, on our own, we are just as lifeless and lost as that tiny acorn.  Our culture tries so hard to conjure life, but despite our best efforts, our frail humanity can’t replicate vitality.  Instead, our life comes from being filled with something bigger than ourselves.

“We, as humans, have an innate desire to be courageous.  Woven into our hearts is the desire to live lives that matter, to live great stories, to be the courageous heroes that overcome our greatest fears just in time to save the day,” writes author and blogger Stephanie May Wilson.  I love her words, because I believe it’s true.  We have to live filled with something far bigger than ourselves—or we won’t live at all.

Just consider the acorn again.  What makes it precious is that it is holding a miracle inside it.  The future is wrapped in its shiny skin and capped by its jaunty hat.  It is a time capsule protecting the embryo of an oak-to-be, a treasure chest hugging a rich gem of possibility.  The purpose of an acorn is to harbor a dream—and to allow God, in His timing, to release it.  

We have more in common with the acorn than we think.  You see, we may not look like much on the outside.  But our value comes from the fact that we are filled with something bigger than ourselves.  By the power of the Holy Spirit, we’ve been seeded with infinite possibilities—dreams and visions of the great works we can do, the mighty oaks we can grow, for the Kingdom of God.  Nestled within the capsule of our hearts are the seeds—the dreams, the hopes, the visions.  As the acorn holds within itself a magnificent oak tree, so we carry dreams far bigger than ourselves.  

And it is these dreams that are the secret to our existence.  As Proverbs 29:18 states, “Where there is no vision, the people perish” (KJV).  The blunt wording of this verse describes the state of soul of a person who lives without a sense of the future.  Without God-given dreams and plans, we will quite literally perish—choked by convenience, stifled by silence, muffled by mundanity.  Our life only flows when we are dancing in step with the Spirit, partnering with Him to bring His calling over our lives into vivid reality.   

To many of us, this sounds wistfully wonderful—a charmed way to live, vastly different from anything we could accomplish.  Sure, pursuing a passion and daring with boldness and dreaming oversized dreams sounds great…at least in theory.  But then we look around—at our own insecurities, or our woeful lack of talent, or our embarrassing mistakes.  And anyway, modern life is forever tugging on our sleeve and harping for our attention like a spoiled child.  Really, if we’re not even motivated to wash the breakfast dishes, what makes us think we can change the world?    

If that’s you, I understand.  Discouragement has shrouded me in its fog many times.  But in those moments of shadowing insecurity, this is the brilliant truth with which we illuminate our hearts:  God has a dream for all people.  Not just wealthy people.  Not just talented people.  Not just methodical people.  Not even just people who have color-coded sock drawers!  All people.  Look no further than Ephesians 2:10:  “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them” (ESV; emphasis mine).  Along the splendid trail of life, God has carefully laid out good works for us all through the years—a pathway of dreams and dares and decisions.  

And if God has ordained all this, what is left for us to do?  Simply to choose to walk the pathway He has prepared.  And really, it’s no choice at all…the choice to exist or to live.  And it’s a choice we can make here, today, no matter how many years we’ve lived or how much time we’ve wasted or how many fears we combat or how many mistakes we’ve made.  

But how do we start?  In the dusty corners of our hearts, the seeds of our dreams often lie forgotten or unnoticed.  How do we find those precious gems of our calling?  Once again, the humble acorn has much to say.   

The first step in finding your God dream is to check your DNA.  You see, if you were to examine the genetic material of an acorn, you’d find that it was the DNA of an oak.  Even in that stage, it bears the image of its true identity, and it’s hardwired to become the future.  So what passions are woven into your character?  What excites you?  What fills your soul with wonder?  What would you love to wake up every morning and do?  

Once you find that spark, evaluate your dream.  God dreams, like acorns, come in all shapes and sizes, but they should share a few commonalities.  First of all, they are bigger than ourselves.  Just as the towering oak is immeasurably larger than the tiny acorn, so our dreams should be wildly disproportional to our capabilities.  Our culture is fond of miniaturized dreams, but only a God-sized dream is worth pursuing through a lifetime.    

Secondly, God dreams outlive us.  The acorn will be absorbed into the forest floor within a single brief season, but the oak it plants may live for many centuries.  In the same way, our visions should lead us to make contributions that extend beyond the scope of earthly time—touching hearts, creating a legacy, leaving a testament to the faithfulness of God in our lives.  

Thirdly, and most importantly, God dreams should bring glory to their divine Author.  I’ve never seen an oak that wasn’t stretching its arms to Heaven in praise.  And in the same way, our dreams should not leave people marveling at our ingenuity, or tenacity, or creativity.  They should instead sing the praise of God Almighty in a way that even effaces our own contribution.    

To see a God dream in action, look no further than the story of David—an overlooked and undergrown teenage boy to whom God promised the throne of Israel.  If ever there was a God dream, this was it.  It was outsized—definitely bigger than anything an impoverished teenager could have hoped to have achieved on his own.  It was long-lasting—David’s contributions are still felt today in his legacy, his political work, and of course, his psalms.  It brought glory to God—although he stumbled at times, David remained a man after God’s own heart, and his story is a testament to the power of the Almighty at work in his life.  

Yet there’s a part of David’s story that we often overlook—one that tells us something important about God dreams.  You see, David wasn’t anointed king and installed on the throne the next day.  He had to wait—not a week, not a month, not a year, but almost fifteen years (2 Samuel 5:4)!  

This waiting is a commonality of God dreams, and it is the stage of the process where people are perhaps most likely to falter and flail.  The spark of a God dream ignites within us, and we expect it to immediately billow into a roaring flame.  But dreams aren’t preformed commodities, and they don’t spring into being overnight.  They grow—steadily, and slowly, and often silently.  

Again, there’s a parallel with the acorn.  For an acorn to become an oak, it has to follow the stages of growth:  embedding itself into the soil and being nurtured with light, water, and essential nutrients.  Then, it has to wait—patience is required as possibility incarnates into reality.  But at no time do we see an acorn frantically trying to make itself grow or attempting to squeeze the oak into existence!  Instead, we see it lying trustingly in the damp soil of the autumn ground—knowing that the God Who deposited the dream inside it will bring it forth in His time.  

And it is in these same humble stages that we find our dreams growing.  We must sow ourselves deeply into the firm foundation of God—burying ourselves in His Word, rooting ourselves in His grace (Ephesians 3:17). We must nurture our dream with His nutrients, like the fellowship of other believers, prayer, giving—as commonplace as sunlight and water, yet as essential.  And finally, we must perform that hardest calling of humans—to bear the weight of the wait, to open ourselves to the Spirit and be still in Him as He works invisible realities in our hearts and souls.  In such an atmosphere, with such a mindset, growth is not only probable—it’s inevitable.  

The acorn—such a humble object.  Yet its value is derived from the treasure it holds within itself—a treasure far bigger than itself.  Like the acorn, we’re all carrying dreams.  God has given each of us a vision and a future as unique as our fingerprint, and it’s woven into our hearts, just waiting to be discovered.  So begin today to search for your dream—your outsized, long-lasting, God-glorifying dream—and commit yourself to its growth.  And just as the acorn transforms—small roots stretching forth under stars and sunlight—so too will your dream.  My friends, allow yourself to feel the hope now, for God has spoken:  “I am doing a work in your days that you would not believe even if told” (Habakkuk 1:5 ESV).  Be encouraged:  from the hearts of humble acorns, He’s still bringing mighty oaks. 

Did you enjoy this post? What are some God-dreams you’ve experienced? Let me know in the comments!