Jesus is apt to come, into the very midst of life at its most real and inescapable moments. Not in a blaze of unearthly light, not in the midst of a sermon, not in the throes of some kind of religious daydream, but...at supper time, or walking along a road...He never approached from on high, but always in the midst, in the midst of people, in the midst of real life and the questions that real life asks.

Faith is not being sure where you're going, but going anyway.

You do not need to understand healing to be healed or know anything about blessing to be blessed.

There is no event so common place but that God is present within it, always hidden, always leaving you room to recognize Him or not to recognize Him.

What's lost is nothing to what's found, and all the death that ever was, set next to life, would scarcely fill a cup.

. . . [T]o live not with hands clenched to grasp, to strike, to hold tight to a life that is always slipping away the more tightly we hold it, but . . . to live with the hands stretched out both to give and receive with gladness.

In New England, especially, [faith] is like sex. It's very personal. You don't bring it out and talk about it.