The worship of safety emasculates greatness.

I think the hardest questions had to do with suffering. It had to do with all of our church members and friends passing through difficult times. Sometimes it's the global climate: tsunamis, earthquakes, radiation. I think these kinds of questions are absolutely the most difficult, yet we need to be ready to respond to them because we have to be able as pastors to walk people through these valleys, these tough times in their lives.

When words are most empty, tears are most apt.

God would prefer we have an occasional limp than a perpetual strut.

He came, not as a flash of light or as an unapproachable conqueror, but as one whose first cries were heard by a peasant girl and a sleepy carpenter. God tapped humanity on its collective shoulder, "Pardon me," he said, and eternity interrupted time, divinity interrupted carnality, and heaven interrupted the earth in the form of a baby. Christianity was born in one big heavenly interruption.

The presence of anxiety is unavoidable, but the prison of anxiety is optional. Anxiety is not a sin; it's an emotion. So don't be anxious about feeling anxious. Anxiety can, however, lead to sinful behavior. When we numb our fears with six-packs or food binges, when we spew anger like Krakatau, when we peddle our fears to anyone who will buy them, we're sinning.

December is the most difficult month. Medications for insomnia or depression go up during the month of December. A lot of people who experience loss feel that loss magnified in December. Everybody seems happy and you feel all alone. You're not all alone.