I just sat down at my kitchen table. The chair swayed when I did (which, as a large man, always gives a moment of panic and the fleeting thought of my keester on the floor amidst broken wood). I got up and turned it over, found a couple loose bolts, tightened them up, and then set down to write this sans wobbling.
In life we have a purpose. We have goals, or a ministry, a reason, maybe a cause. A chair has a purpose. My chair had a purpose. It was meant to hold my girth a bit over a foot off the ground. But its purpose was almost derailed because its foundation lacked surety.
As a Christian, I believe our ultimate foundation is Jesus Christ, but that's not necessarily the foundation that I'm referring to here. Rather, I'd say more that in my allegorical rhetoric that Jesus is the floor that the chair stands on (the Rock that the house is build on from Matthew 7), and the legs represent the strength with which we stand on that floor. We can never achieve X (whatever that mythical algebraic giant might be), if we stand on wobbly financial, spiritual, emotional, or organizational legs. (Sure, there are likely more legs to mention, but have you ever seen a five-legged chair? Gotta make the metaphor work here.)
I have my dreams, and one day I will attain them by the grace of God. But as I reach for my dreams, I must be sure I reach with strengthened legs that can support them, lest both my dreams and I perish in the fall.