I don’t know that our dreams died. Rather, I think that they were abandoned because that leaves us with the dream that maybe, in some nearly impossible way we can somehow still achieve the dream, for without a dream it us who dies.

Despite all of our incessant tinkering, we can’t manufacture the things we most desperately need. And if perchance we do, they will never be more than pathetically emaciated facsimiles that will leave us emaciated. And until we finally realize that we can only ‘find’ these things, we will never sense any compulsion to ‘find’ God.

Strength other than that received from God is just hype manufactured by men.

When I find a man sold out to God, I have found a rare thing. And I have discovered that God is in the business of creating rare things, of which I someday hope to be one so that I might help you become one as well.

It’s not what the day holds. Rather, it’s how we hold the day.

Of necessity, our imagination must embrace the dark reality of ‘what is’ as a precursor to ‘what could be.’ For then and only then will we see in the darkness of today the certain light of tomorrow.

A dream is not simply an idea to entertain a life gone bored. Rather, it is a reality waiting to ignite a world gone dark.

With God, brokenness is nothing more than the stage upon which the impossible is about to happen.

I simply cannot afford to be ignorant of the monumental challenges that constantly batter and beset the world around me. But neither can I afford to be ignorant of the cancer of pessimism that constantly rallies the entire weight of its defeatist character in an all-out effort to convince me that the abilities inherent in mankind are far, far too inadequate to challenge the challenges. And it might be that the greatest challenge of all is to challenge this sort of thinking.