But, someone, please give me—who is born again but still so much in need of being born anew—give me the details of how to live in the waiting cocoon before the forever begins?

Every moment I live, I live bowed to something. And if I don't see God, I'll bow down before something else.

That which tears open our souls, those holes that splatter our sight, may actually become the thin, open places to see through the mess of this place to the heart-aching beauty beyond. To Him. To the God whom we endlessly crave.

Joy is the realest reality, the fullest life, and joy is always given, never grasped. God gives gifts and I give thanks and I unwrap the gift given: joy.

Only speak words that make souls stronger.

Fullness of joy is discovered only in the emptying of will.

In a world addicted to speed, I blur the moments into one unholy smear.