The only explanation that I can come up with to explain the passion that I have to do what I cannot is the existence of a God who can.

Faith is believing in something that I am not. And since the vast majority of this existence is made up of what I am not, I’m left wondering why is faith so difficult.

Of all the things that God could have done, I have yet to get over the fact that He chose us to fix the world that we screwed up. And in terms of second-chances, this is one of the biggest ones we’ll ever get.

If we’ve kept God far from us, we might ask how far we are from just about everything else.

At those moments when life caves in and all falls dark, the space that I’ve created between myself and God feels impossibly vast. Yet, if I seek Him I will turn and suddenly find that the vastness I thought to be there was nothing more than the ‘assumption’ of His absence.

If it were believable, we wouldn’t have to stretch ourselves to believe it. Therefore, because God refuses to leave us trapped in the smallness of ourselves, He says things that are unbelievable so that we have no choice but to be stretched.

If I have to create space for something to enter my life by asking God to leave my life, maybe what I’ve actually done is taken leave of my senses.

Maybe true beauty is when something quite ‘simple’ exercises whatever bit of faith it holds, and in the exercising it suddenly discovers that the ‘simple thing’ that it always thought itself to be only served to hide the ‘great thing’ that it always was.

I did not make this day, but God did so that I might have the privilege of letting Him use it to make me.