I am the greatest obstacle to my greatest dreams.

I craft most of my own tragedies without ever having even the remotest understanding that it is I myself who have done the crafting.

When I read the ghastly lines of tragedy darkly penned into my life, I turn and notice that the pen in my hand is wet.

It takes but a handful of words to ambush my soul with hope. Yet, the vexing question in it all is why do I so often ambush the words?

More times than I’m willing to admit I am my own worst enemy, which suggests that more times than I’m willing to admit I should allow God to be my own best friend.

The barrier to our future is often the very plans that we’ve created to get there.