It is in refusing to recognize that we worship something that we move from the worship of that thing to slavery to that thing.

To build refuges of my own making is to construct fortresses of sand at ocean’s edge, where the relentless tides of time will leave my most magnificently constructed walls as perfectly flat sand. And now that I am subject to the very tides that destroyed these walls of mine, I am left with the reality that my single and sole refuge can only be the God who created both tides and sand.

Easter is a time where we are reminded that conclusions in man's mind are beginnings in God's plan.

Jesus was born in a borrowed barn, he was buried in a borrowed tomb, and in-between it all he borrowed mankind’s sin with the intent of never returning it.

I’m not all that certain that we can handle magnificence. And I wonder if that’s why we take great things and diminish them through our small stories and weak renderings.

Despite the illusions that I so readily embrace, whatever I hold can’t be held, for in time, time will steal it away. But time can’t hold God. Therefore, of all the things around me, my hands should be full of God and empty of everything else.

Many adventurers would say that opportunity is something that you find as part of a relentless search, or that it’s something that an imagination unleashed shapes and creates. And while all of that sounds bold and wonderfully fearless, it’s my sense that opportunity is more that thing to which we’ve been called by something larger than ourselves, and less something that is a product of ourselves.

Forgiveness allows the burdens that we carry to become the histories that we forget.

Maybe I've got to be sufficiently broken by life's many broken promises to be sufficiently compelled to seek out God's unbreakable promises.