The Crippled Visionary

I stumble forward. My pains, my hopes, my dreams, my big hairy audacious goal, my legendary pioneering vision, my disappointments, my failures, conversations with my idealistic sixteen year old self.
I am the master of my destiny operating within God’s domain. Yet so much uncertainty, so much self-doubt, so much public portrayal of prosperity, so much self-hypnotic pep talks, so much top-layer shine covering a hillside of debt. So much self-imposed expectations.
And yet I rise. Operating within grace. For I know that the other lies ahead. Fueled by illogical hope that governs my every step. The unseen is carrying me, the unimaginable within grasp. Clumsily midwifing the birth of a new season. My small quivering frame, a cog in the new world of possibility. For dreams and faith give me wings, carrying me beyond my undeserved reality, for my contribution is greater than I. Thank you dear Father.
*** An ode to the collective story of so many of us chartering the road less travelled***

Leave a Reply