The most fascinating destinations don’t lay on the cusp of some ever-distant horizon. Rather, they lie in a place well on this side of every horizon…our hearts.

I am amazed that without any hesitation whatsoever I can completely believe myself to be on a grand journey of massive vistas and bold ascents, only to find that they are nothing more than a figment of a frightened imagination that needed a journey but could not admit to the fear of actually taking one.

What is an adventure, I might ask? And in the asking, I might begin to understand that my adventures are sorely limited to the confines of my lackluster imagination. Therefore, an adventure of the most robust and wild sort must be constructed by an unlimited imagination. And unless I am mistaken, only God has an imagination like that.

We live with this tortured feeling that we must create that which in reality we have the privilege of finding.

God beckons me to exhilarating adventures that are without number, beyond all conceivable boundaries, and effortlessly eclipse the furthest reaches of my imagination, all while I sit languishing in stifling adventures of my own limited creation.

It is in the grand contradictions of the deepest soul that great moments of life are afoot.

For life to afford us a truly new road, particularly a road of wonder and hope, we must have any remnants of the old road removed lest we are tempted to take them up yet again. And if they cannot be removed, they must be made so undesirable that nothing would behoove us to ever take them.

Preparation for a journey is little more than being in ‘love’ with the idea of adventure. But being ‘committed’ to the idea of adventure means actually getting up and walking. And that might explain why our shoes seldom wear out.

I’m not looking for a road to walk. Rather, I’m looking for a path to create. For creating a path shapes men, while walking a road simply appeases them.