If left to my own simplistic devices and the sorely scant limits of my abilities, would I not die a death of the blandest sort imaginable? And should I not thank God that He graciously gifted me with an imagination that renders such a death entirely unimaginable?

The only explanation that I can come up with to explain the passion that I have to do what I cannot is the existence of a God who can.

My passion should be big enough that I fear it, but not so weak that my fear of it becomes the death of it.

Sadly, in too many cases surrender is having been ‘outrun’ by fear rather than having ‘run out’ of heart.

We may not necessarily be all that gifted, but we certainly have passion. And maybe we should start understanding that passion is a gift of such importance that without it any other gift doesn’t matter. Therefore, we are gifted indeed.

It wasn’t until I slowed the car and rolled down the windows that I realized I spend most of my days driving ‘through’ life without driving ‘in’ life. So, I’ve decided to walk because the pace is slower and the windows are always down.