“Do you feel like you’re stuck in a hole?”
I feel like I’m in a hole, and I can’t get out.
“Won’t somebody throw me a rope?” I cry up toward the crest of the earth.
Everyone that comes along sincerely wants to help, but each time they try the earth breaks away a little bit more beneath their footing.
“I can’t,” they shout down at me, “or I’ll fall in the hole with you, but I’ll pray for you, they say as they go about their business.
Eventually I look down and see the tools each person tossed down to me, and I realize as I stand alone that it’s up to me. If I really want to get out, then I have to use my God given mind, and the tools I have to work with. The key I realize is in my own desire. I have to want it bad enough to do the work.