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“I would have sworn that the leap was going to end in disaster. I had applied the rubrics of fear and tediously calculated the nature of the risk, thereby adamantly determining it to be impossible. Yet, high in the lofty branches of the towering maple tree the squirrel leapt, and in doing so made it look effortless. And I thought, “How many times have I applied the rubrics of fear, overestimated the leap, and have therefore chosen to exist in a forest of one tree?” Therefore, my commitment in the coming year is to live in a forest of many trees.”

“If I ride the winds of my imagination out to the furthest periphery of my soul their gusts will eventually die and my journey will draw to a halt at some abbreviated horizon. For there is only one wind who gusts who bow to no horizon and who’s course is set to sweep the landscape of the eternal. And that wind is born of a God Who invites us to be swept up into the breeze that leaves every horizon in its wake and eternity riding at its feet.”

“A dream is our imagination waiting for us to be brave enough to pick up a pencil, zealous enough to sketch out a blueprint, determined enough to gather the tools, committed enough to lean into the task, and audacious enough to make imagination the reality that it was always meant to be. For in time, a dream left to be nothing but a dream will eventually leave our souls believing that dreams aren’t worth imagining. And I can only imagine a handful of things as devastating as that.”

“The greenhouse overflowed with a dazzling array of beautiful plants. And as I scanned the beauty spilling out of innumerable planters and pots and baskets, I realized that the beauty now on display had always laid in the seeds. And if the seeds had not been cultivated the beauty within would have certainly remained, but it would have remained forever hidden. And I wondered, how many people remain a seed because no one ever stepped up to cultivate them? And because no one did, beauty remained hidden and the greenhouse of our lives were left with a forever hole.”

“Jesus is waiting for you to realize that the devastating pain of your story holds within its pages the perfect nouns and just the right verbs. And if you lay those nouns and verbs before Jesus, He will arrange them into a story so gloriously mind-boggling that you will be driven to give Him the whole of your story so that there is never a word that He is not in possession of.”