The Issue Is God, Not Odds
Beware of dreaming too small and asking God for too little. You do not know when he may touch your simple task and turn it into gold.
Alfred Lord Tennyson wrote one of his most famous and moving poems when he was eighty years old. He wrote it on the inside of a used envelope during a twenty-nine minute ferry ride while crossing from Lymington to the Isle of Wight off the southern coast of England.
It's about the approach of death. It helped that he was eighty.
Your most lasting achievement may yet be decades in front of you. Do not calculate the odds of this. The issue is God, not odds.
"The Crossing of the Bar"
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark.
For though from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.
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