I have rendered God invisible only because the size of Him terrifies me and the thought of myself in comparison to Him swallows me whole. But, is it not in being swallowed up by God’s size that I am at the self-same moment freed of everything that makes me small?

It’s not that God can’t rescue us. It’s that we choose not to be rescued because we’re too blind to see the necessity of it.

We have been granted an exclusive part in the greatest story ever told. And without a doubt, to walk away from that part would be to write greatest tragedy ever conceived.

I suppose that Christmas seems vexingly improbable in my mind because God did something for all of mankind that I’m too selfish to do even for myself. But isn’t that the exact reason why we need Christmas?

What further evidence do we need regarding our inability to save ourselves? For if we dare to take even the briefest look at the world around us, we’ll rather quickly see that we can’t even save ourselves from the evidence that we can’t save ourselves.

Too often I’m the slumlord of my own heart.

If I think that what I need are the things that my hands craft, I will miss the fact that what I need are the hands of the God who crafted me.

The greatest light is that which shows us how dark our own light really was.

Without the darkness would we truly understand the light as being light?