Reflecting on Flies
Sitting and looking out the window, I saw three flies clinging to the glass. One was diligently climbing, one tired step at a time. Not too fast, steady and constant. One was running and would quickly lose his footing and fall to the floor. The third remembered he had wings and flew away.
Are you working your way to the top, only to find it leads you to another dead end? Are you running the same race over and over only to crumble? Or do you realize that you can fly?
I gently caught the first two and set them outside…the third one was too busy flying.
The world tells you to be fly number three. But don't you see, fly 3 is "free" in a room it never belonged in. The other two realized they couldn't make it on their own and surrendered to salvation.
The two flies flew away, guided by a gentle breeze.
Are you working your way to the top, only to find it leads you to another dead end? Are you running the same race over and over only to crumble? Or do you realize that you can fly?
I gently caught the first two and set them outside…the third one was too busy flying.
The world tells you to be fly number three. But don't you see, fly 3 is "free" in a room it never belonged in. The other two realized they couldn't make it on their own and surrendered to salvation.
The two flies flew away, guided by a gentle breeze.
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