When I think about Dreaming in the Dark, I picture a seed buried deep beneath the soil.

From the surface, it looks like nothing is happening. There is no sunlight, no visible growth, and no evidence of what that tiny seed will eventually become. It is surrounded by darkness and covered by the weight of the soil, yet underneath everything we can see, something  is happening.Roots are growing.

 

That image became the heart behind this song because there have been seasons in my life that felt very much like that. There were times when I couldn't understand why certain doors had closed, why something I had prayed for wasn't happening, or why God seemed to be allowing me to remain in a place I desperately wanted to leave.

 

The song says,

“Some dreams grow beneath the hardest ground. Roots run deeper where no light is found. Time moved slow, but Heaven never stalled. God was workin' through it all.”

That is something I've learned to recognize more clearly as I've gotten older. Sometimes we don't see God's fingerprints on a season until years after we've walked through it.

The darkness taught me how to trust. Loss taught me what really mattered. Difficult seasons taught me how to pray. Disappointment strengthened me, and some of the closed doors I once questioned eventually redirected me toward roads I didn't even know existed.

 

That doesn't mean everything that happens to us is good. Some losses remain losses. Some wounds leave scars. Some things still hurt years later, and I don't believe we have to pretend otherwise in order to have faith. That is why Romans 8:28 means so much to me. Scripture doesn't tell us that everything that happens is good. It tells us that God works through all things for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.

 

There is a difference. God can take something painful without calling the pain good and still use it to shape us, redirect us, deepen our faith, or prepare us for something we cannot yet see. While I was waiting, He was preparing. While I was questioning, He was working.

And while I was dreaming in the dark, God was growing something underneath the surface.

 

Jesus gives us a beautiful picture of this in John 12:24 when He speaks about a kernel of wheat falling into the ground before it produces something greater. A seed has to enter a place that looks dark, buried, and hidden before the life inside it begins to emerge.

Sometimes our lives feel that way too. We can mistake being buried for being forgotten.

We can mistake waiting for abandonment. We can look around at the darkness and assume nothing is happening simply because we cannot see what God is doing, but roots grow in places nobody sees.

 

One of my favorite lines in the song says,

“What felt buried never truly died. Mercy kept it breathin' deep inside.” There have been dreams I've carried through difficult seasons, but I've also learned that sometimes God changes the dream itself. We may begin life dreaming about success, recognition, money, accomplishments, or the picture we imagined our future would become. Then life happens. We experience loss, disappointment, failure, and unexpected roads, and somewhere along the journey God begins changing what matters to us.

 

The dream becomes less about what we can accomplish and more about who we're becoming. It becomes less about being seen and more about serving. Less about building something for ourselves and more about asking God, “What can You do through me?”

Sometimes the greatest thing God grows in the darkness isn't the dream we were holding.

It's us.

 

The chorus says,

“I was forged inside the midnight flame. Lost some tears but never lost my name. When the world said break, I would not bend. Still dreamin'... dreamin' in the dark.” I love those words because perseverance doesn't mean we walk through difficult seasons untouched. We may cry. We may become tired. We may question where God is leading us. We may carry scars from places we've been, but those things don't have to take away who God created us to be.

 

Some seeds become towering trees with deep roots that provide strength and shelter. Others become flowers whose beauty brings joy to the people who encounter them. They don't have the same purpose, and they were never supposed to. God knows what He planted inside each of us. Our responsibility isn't to become what someone else was created to be. It's to trust God enough to allow Him to grow us into what He intended, even when the process happens somewhere dark.

​

The bridge says,

“Every closed door, every sleepless night, You were buildin' courage for the fight... The pit got deep, but it could not win. You were growin' roots beneath my skin.” Looking back, I can see that some of the seasons I desperately wanted God to end were the very seasons where my roots were growing deepest. I couldn't see it then, but God could.

​

My prayer for Dreaming in the Dark is for anyone who feels buried beneath a season they don't understand. Maybe you've been waiting for an answer, grieving something you lost, watching doors close, or wondering whether the dream God placed inside you still has a purpose. I pray you don't mistake darkness for God's absence. I pray you remember that just because you cannot see growth doesn't mean God isn't working beneath the surface. Trust that the same God who sees the finished tree also sees the seed while it is still beneath the soil.

​

I also pray that we give God permission to change our dreams. Sometimes what we wanted years ago isn't what He is calling us toward today. As our relationship with Him grows, our desires can grow with it. What once centered around ourselves can become a desire to serve Him, love people, and use whatever He has given us for something greater than ourselves, and when a painful season doesn't make sense, may we hold onto the promise of Romans 8:28. We don't have to call every painful thing good. We simply trust that our God is good enough to work through all of it.

​

Maybe you're not buried. Maybe you're planted. Maybe the darkness isn't the end of your story. Maybe roots are growing where you simply cannot see them yet.

​

So keep trusting.

Keep praying.

Keep reaching toward the light, and while God is working beneath the surface...

keep dreaming in the dark.