Sólo los que se atreven a escalar, y subir cada día más alto, enfrentarán resbalones, caídas, errores, dificultades… incluso muerte. No aquellos que se paran en un agradable valle de semiluz donde la vara y el cayado de Dios son benévolos y no demasiado exigentes. Es como tener un hijo deficiente mental, que siempre es niño. Pero no porque haya nacido así, sino porque ni come ni bebe, ni se renueva… y cría ranas espirituales. Eso sí, en una charca bien ajardinada, con palacetes de oro y riberas aterciopeladas de verde claro.

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Only those people who dare to climb —and climb higher every day— will trip, fall, make mistakes, run into problems… and perhaps even face death. Not so with those who come to a standstill in a pleasant sun-lit valley where God’s rod and staff are benevolent and not too demanding. It’s like having a mentally-handicapped child who is always a child; not because he was born that way, but because he doesn’t eat or drink or renew himself… and so, he produces spiritual frogs. Of course, he lives in golden palaces on the velvety light-green banks of a pond surrounded by beautiful gardens!

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