To be bored is to turn a cold shoulder to engage all that God is and has for you in the moment.

Maybe at the heart of all our traveling is the dream of someday, somehow, getting Home.

Life is grace. Sleep is forgiveness. The night absolves. Darkness wipes the slate clean, not spotless to be sure, but clean enough for another day's chalking.

The world speaks of holy things in the only language it knows, which is worldly language.

The best moments any of us have as human beings are those moments when for a little while it is possible to escape the squirrel-cage of being me into the landscape of being us.

Like Adam, we have all lost Paradise; and yet we carry Paradise around inside of us in the form of a longing for, almost a memory of, a blessedness that is no more, or the dream of a blessedness that may someday be again.

The Jesus who is the one whom we search for even when we do not know that we are searching and hide from even when we do not know that we are hiding.