Reach for the stars they said.
Reach for the glass ceiling.
Reach for the finish line.
I reached deep within my soul and reached up into His arms.
I reached the stars, shining brightly in the quiet Upper Peninsula night, where the silence is broken by the howls of wolves and the whisper of the wind in the aspen trees.
I reached the glass ceiling, looked out, and decided that I liked the responsibility and stability on the second floor instead. I gaze out my office window at the daisies swaying in the breeze and listen to the call of the raven as he scolds the blue jay.
I reached ... but am not yet ready to cross that finish line since my work here ~ His work ~ is not yet done in me.
I reached, found friends at all corners of the earth, and found peace.