Stress isn't only a joy stealer. The way we respond to it can be sin.

Writing is this act of faith - a bit like driving in the fog: you can hardly see just in front of you. But you trust God's leading you and you just write into the space you can see ahead of you.

When you're most wounded by words run to the only Word that always brings healing.

The wrinkled man in the wheelchair with the legs wrapped, the girl with her face punctured deep with the teeth marks of a dog, the mess of the world, and I see - this, all this, is what the French call d'un beau affreux, what the Germans call hubsch-hasslich - the ugly-beautiful. That which is perceived as ugly transfigures into beautiful. What the postimpressionist painter Paul Gauguin expressed as 'Le laid peut etre beau' - The ugly can be beautiful. The dark can give birth to life; suffering can deliver grace.

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

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

Love doesn't necessarily mean bless or agree with, it means sacrifice for and suffer with.