Any life lived attentively is disillusioning as it forces us to know us as we are.

I was taught that I had to 'master' subjects. But who can 'master' beauty, or peace, or joy?

This is a God who is not identified with the help of a dictionary but through a relationship.

I am learning to see loneliness as a seed that, when planted deep enough, can grow into writing that goes back out into the world.

I write what I would like to read.

The Christian religion asks us to put our trust not in ideas, and certainly not in ideologies, but in a God Who was vulnerable enough to become human and die, and Who desires to be present to us in our ordinary circumstances.

It's all so beautiful . . . the spring . . . and books and music and fires. . . . Why aren't they enough?