We give thanks to God not because of how we feel, but because of Who He is.

Any kind of love that lacks the iron of the Cross in it, is anemic love.

All fear is but the notion that God's love ends.

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?

Life isn't an emergency. Christ is in charge of every moment of the day; nothing catches Him off guard.

But wells don't come without first begging to see the wells; wells don't come without first splitting open hard earth, cracking back the lids. There's no seeing God face-to-face without first the ripping.

The life that counts blessings discovers its yielding more than it seems.