The woods invite me into themselves so that I might be drawn out of myself. And if I have never engaged in such an exchange, I will find myself a man so full of myself that I am nothing but myself. And that is a terribly small thing to be.

I can confidently state that the greatest rescues in my life have occurred when I’ve been saved from myself.

If I see God as nothing more than a caricature of history or imagination I cannot do anything less than make myself my own ‘god’. And once I realize that in doing so my rendition of being a ‘god’ is embarrassingly inferior to the very caricature I am mimicking, I quickly come to realize that maybe the only thing that can be ‘god’ is a God. And if that is the case, I suddenly find myself hounded by the stunning reality that God is not a caricature.

At this moment God might not necessarily be a necessity, but know that His absence will of necessity eventually result in His necessity.

How can I claim to be the center of my universe when I can’t even conceptualize that which I claim to be the center of?

I often think myself to be so ingenious that I don’t even realize that my own plans may actually be my own undoing. Therefore, I might be wise to realize that God’s plans undo what I’ve done that’s undoing me.

If God didn’t design the road, you can be assured that it’s a very short path to a really steep cliff.

We do not hold the solution to our problems, unless we see the destruction of ourselves as the solution to our problems.

If there is any evidence that points to the existence of God, it is found in man’s incessant desire to be ‘god’ and his repeated failure to be anything but men who wish to be what they are not.