It is the length of the journey that ripens the joy of the outcome.
To fall down is to face the weakness of my humanity, test the mettle of my character, and push the limits of my strength. Therefore, falling down will tell me who I am far more clearly than most things I might learn when Iβm standing up.
Of course God does outrageous things. But in reality, what insanity would prompt me to follow a God who did anything less?
Dream extravagantly, for God has imbued us with ample imagination to dream out to and across the very periphery of the impossible.
Thereβs something tightly woven throughout the fabric of our humanity that runs entirely opposite to the baser instinct of looking out for our own good.
Because I have βchosenβ to see something as impossible, thereβs a good chance that itβs not.
If the amount of times we get up is just one less than the amount of times that we've been knocked down, then we're spending our lives lying down.