Probably one or two moments in your whole life you will hear a dark whispering spirit, a voice coming from the center of things. It will have blades for lips and will not stop until it speaks the one secret thing at the heart of it all. Kneeling on the floor, unable to stop shuddering, I heard it plainly. It said, You are unlovable.

You can go other places, all right - you can live on the other side of the world, but you can't ever leave home

It's always been my hope that I would write a story that would inspire and would connect with people in a way that would touch hearts.

I know you've run away - everybody gets the urge to do that some time - but sooner or later you'll want to go home.

Journal became a sanctuary where I could pour out in honesty my pain and joy. It recorded my footsteps and helped me understand where I was standing, where I had been, and even where God pointed.

So few people know what they're capable of.

In the photograph by my bed my mother is perpetually smiling on me. I guess I have forgiven us both, although sometimes in the night my dreams will take me back to the sadness, and I have to wake up and forgive us again.