If I were going to begin practicing the presence of God for the first time today, it would help to begin by admitting the three most terrible truths of our existence: that we are so ruined, and so loved, and in charge of so little.

Having a baby is like suddenly getting the world's worst roommate.

The solution is always spiritual, and it almost never has anything to do with the problem ... laughter is carbonated holiness.

If your wife locks you out of the house, you don't have a problem with your door.

Grace is having a commitment to- or at least an acceptance of- being ineffective and foolish. That our bottled charm is the main roadblock to drinking that clear cool glass of love.

I was usually filled with a sense of something like shame until I'd remember that wonderful line of Blake's- that we are here to learn to endure the beams of love- and I would take a long deep breath and force these words out of my strangulated throat: "Thank you.

For some of us, good books and beautiful writing are our ultimate solace, even more comforting than exquisite food.