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“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.” — Craig D. Lounsbrough
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.