If men built it, it’s not a refuge. Only God possesses that kind of material and only He has the craftsmanship to use it.

Space is the stuff that we fill, so sometimes we’d rather not have it because of the things that stand around the space eager to rush in and fill it to its edges.

Why is it that none of the things I construct ever make me feel safe? The answer lies in the fact that safety can’t be created. It can only be found. And the only thing I've found that’s never been created is God.

Choosing a life of safety is safely choosing something other than life.

To calculate sacrifice is to attempt to sacrifice safely, and safe sacrifice is one of the most outrageous oxymoron’s I can think of.

If safety is my goal, living life is not.

The more we construct lives that prioritize safety, the bigger the prison we construct around ourselves.

Don’t think for a minute that the person next to you is not as wounded as you are. For if you can’t see their wounds, it’s likely that you have not made it safe enough for them to show them to you because you don’t feel safe enough to risk them seeing yours.

The world screams, ‘Stay down, it’s safer.’ My soul screams, ‘So is being dead.