I suppose that the greatest blindness is to assume the absence of blindness.

My conscience might not permit me to do the things that the darker side of me would most certainly like to do. But in the end, what makes the greater story; how I beat the darker side or how it beat me?

When will I realize that without God my world is draped in shadows between which there is not a single ray of light? And when will I recognize that with God, my world is deluged in light between which there is not a single thread of darkness?

We must always remember that the darkness might hide everything, but it eliminates nothing.

When the sun begins rubbing the eastern horizon warm with the first pastel-thin light of a new day, I am reminded that the sun had to let the world go dark before it was sufficiently positioned to make the world become light.

I don’t lament life. For the darkness that seems to consume all of life is the opportunity for the entrance the greatest of light. And because there’s plenty of darkness, there’s plenty of opportunity.

And so I stand in this bitter darkness, holding the map that I drew from the compass I created. And with a map and compass such as these, have I not arrived at the correct destination?

Darkness should never be an excuse to quit, for with God, darkness is the exact stuff that light was built for.

If you see a dandelion as a weed, you’ll spray it. If you see it as a flower, you’ll draw it close, turn it this way and that, and become lost in the colossal burst of slender golden petals that spew sunshine into the darkest of souls. And so, how many things have we sprayed that could have illuminated our souls if we would have let them be more than what we let them be?