Whenever I’ve ‘jumped ship,’ I rarely ever land in the water. Rather, I tend to land on another ship that’s in just about as much trouble as the one I just jumped off of.

Too often what we’ve defined as our calling is in fact the strategy that we have crafted as a means of running from our calling.

For the frightened, running in a circle is the illusion of a journey.

If I’m perplexed by the fact that I’m constantly lost, maybe somewhere in my head I’ve determined that being lost serves a greater purpose than being found.

Fear left unrestrained always leaves us running ‘from’ something. Fear harnessed compels us to run ‘to’ something. And fear denied leaves us running in circles.

We can certainly run from a lot of things. But when we eventually pull up exhausted and entirely out of breath, we are rather shocked to discover that we haven’t been able to create any distance between ourselves and what we’ve been running from regardless of how fast we might have been running and how far we think we might have gotten.

Safety is not a destination that we reach for, rather it is a retreat that we escape to. And if our lives are marked by the incessant search for safety, we will live the whole of it going in reverse.

If there’s any redeeming quality that I can find in running away from something, it’s that I’m on my feet. Now all I’ve got to do is alter my direction.

If we’re running, the need to run has likely outweighed ample consideration of where we’re running to. Therefore, the goal is not a cherished destination for which we strive, but a panicked reaction for which we will suffer.