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

It is one thing to say you're at war with this whole world and stick your chest out believing it, but when the world shows up with it's crushing numbers and its predatory knowledge, it is another thing completely.

You can embark on new and steeper versions of your old sins, you know, and cry tears while doing it that are genuine as any.

Once in my life I knew a grief so hard I could actually hear it inside, scraping at the lining of my stomach, an audible ache, dredging with hooks as rivers are dredged when someone's been missing too long. I have to think my mother felt something like that.

Love is a strange fact - it hopes all things, believes all things, endures all things. It makes no sense at all.

We see a newborn moth unwrapping itself and announce, Look, children, a miracle! But let an irreversible wound be knit back to seamlessness? We won't even see it, though we look at it every day.

Sometimes heroism is nothing more than patience, curiosity, and a refusal to panic.