There is that incessantly gnawing loneliness that leaves us ever-restless, eventually driving us to embark upon some endless journey supposing that whatever would fill us is held in some hidden treasure that lays silently buried in a yet undiscovered place. Yet, it would do us well to understand that this loneliness is no more and no less than the image of the infinite God ever-stirring within us and all the while begging to be unleashed.

If there is any evidence that points to the existence of God, it is found in man’s incessant desire to be ‘god’ and his repeated failure to be anything but men who wish to be what they are not.

Our humanity might find varied means of expression, but if we peel away the layers there lays something of a frightened soul that is trying to find a safe place to lay itself down. And while those places that we seek are varied, until we rest in God none of us will rest.

God invites. Man indoctrinates. The former is an invitation to run the wilds of an eternity anticipated now in order to fully live there later. The latter is a set of chains that knows nothing of running, nor the space within which to do so.

It’s only ‘over’ because you’ve neglected to seek out the God Who has placed a door in every single wall.

I have stumbled my way through most of my life. However. God has kept me from falling all of my life.

It is when I have come to the point that I can do little but crawl that God calls me to fly. And collapsing at the seemingly cruel idea of such an impossible notion, I nonetheless raise a trembling hand and suddenly find myself soaring on wings I thought not to exist. And since that moment, I’ve never stopped believing in wings but I have stopped believing in crawling.

God’s not done with you yet, even if you haven’t let Him begin.

For some of us, the greatest miracle of all would be to believe in miracles. Conversely, the greatest tragedy of all would be to believe that you can’t believe.