“You Can’t”

The enemy voice is brutal sometimes. It utilizes a good message for a disruptive purpose.

The fear of limits—particularly physical limits—keeps us safe. We inherited it from our ancestors; it kept them alive.

Actually, it kept me alive as a teenager.

Should I launch off this 20 foot cliff on my bike?
Can I break 110 mph in this car?
“No,” it would say, “You can’t.”

The enemy voice misappropriates “You can’t" to sabotage whatever it is that you most certainly can do but is still vulnerable to being deceived.

For me, “You can’t” inflates all threats, which are mostly perceived, and deflates my confidence. “You can’t” may have kept me alive at one time, but now it threatens to kill my dreams, my direction, my vision, and my goals. Those two words are connected to my adrenaline reserves: when I hear it I still get afraid, my heart palpitates, and I want to save myself.

But it’s a lie.
I can.
And so can you.