If I were to be brutally honest with myself, how often is my journey actually a path designed to circumvent my journey?

There are lesser paths that scour the landscape of my life, each begging me off to dead-end adventures touted as wondrous destinations of the most magnificent sort. And despite the vast number of them, I can distinguish each of them from the path designed by God by simply recognizing that God doesn’t promise destinations. He promises Himself.

I can chart my own path.  However, I’ve yet to figure out why so many of my paths always seem to lead to the edge of some really big cliffs. Maybe I should consider charting a path out of charting my path.

The paths in front of me are so numerous that it’s difficult to choose the right one. Yet I can rather quickly solve the problem by realizing that it’s not the paths in front of me. Rather, it’s the path above me.

The sure path to tomorrow was plotted in a manger and paved on a cross. And although this sturdy byway is mine for the taking, I have incessantly chosen lesser paths. And maybe it is time to realize that Christmas is a promise that I can walk through the world and never get lost in the woods.

Sometimes we must take the most important journey’s in isolation; alone except for the experience itself.

If God didn’t design the road, you can be assured that it’s a very short path to a really steep cliff.

I yearn not for the easy path, but for the right path.  For 'easy' and 'right' are rarely compatible.

The road to success is paved with the hot asphalt of failure.