If God had to build a door, it’s because we erected a wall.

Worlds of my own creation are erected with walls that are within but a few scant paces of each other. The world that God creates for me has no idea what walls are.

We go through life seeing plenty of walls but too few doors, despite the fact that every wall has one.

The architect of the walls around me is the fear within me. And if I have foolishly granted this architect full license to build whatever it pleases in whatever manner it pleases, I will find that I have confused safety with imprisonment.

How in the world are we supposed to engage life when we spend all of our life building walls to protect ourselves from the very thing that we say we want to engage? The answer is, I think, understanding that God doesn’t need walls but we need Him.

Every wall that would entrap me has a door that would free me. And I languish because the fear of freedom often leaves me preferring the familiarity of the wall.

In the insanity of the cube we feel safe within its confines, yet the insanity is believing that confines equate to safety.

If there’s one thing that will stop people from achieving their goals, it’s a wall. However, as I see it, without a wall there’s no place to build a door.

We think that boxes take everything that’s bad and they lock all that nasty stuff out, when in reality they take everything that we are and they lock all of those great things in.