How rude for the created to tell the Creator "I wasn't worth it. You didn't do a good job when you made me. I wasn't worth dying for." You don't get a choice! He's the one who gets to decide.

Love the sinner, hate the sin? How about: Love the sinner, hate your own sin! I don't have time to hate your sin. There are too many of you! Hating my sin is a full-time job. How about you hate your sin, I'll hate my sin and let's just love each other!

How rude for the created to tell the Creator "I wasn't worth it. You didn't do a good job when you made me. I wasn't worth dying for." You don't get a choice! He's the one who gets to decide.

We don't help people by showing them our trophies. We help them by showing them our scars.

Life is a series of recoveries.

The self-righteous have their fig leaves so tightly bound that they have forgotten the seeping wounds beneath the foliage.

It's not a great song unless it makes your DNA remember Eden and your spirit long for Home.