I once heard a story about a man of old who was lost in the wilderness and desperately thirsty. He came across a stream and threw himself at it, beginning to gulp the life-giving water. However, his beloved falcon started attacking him with its talons, keeping him from drinking. Out of desperation, he drew his sword and killed it. 

But before turning back to the stream, his thoughts went to his companion lying dead at his feet. What had it been trying to say? He forced himself to trek upstream…and found a dead poisonous snake in the pool above. 

I feel this story in my gut. There’s poison in the water. There are some falcons, but there are millions and millions of people willing to drink.