When a person dies, the earth is generally unwilling to cough him back up. A miracle contradicts the will of earth.

I prayed the Lord would sort (my prayers) out and answer as needed. Above all that he would hurry.

Routine is worry's sly assassin.

Good advice is a wise man's friend, of course; but sometimes it just flies on past, and all you can do is wave.

My sister, Swede, who often sees to the nub, offered this: People fear miracles because they fear being changed--though ignoring them will change you also. Swede said another thing, too, and it rang in me like a bell: No miracle happens without a witness. Someone to declare, Here's what I saw. Here's how it went. Make of it what you will.

Hope is like yeast, you know, rising under warmth.

So thoughtlessly we sling on our destinies.