Without as much as a single question, legions of geese lift themselves to autumn’s skies, obediently heeding the distant call of southern horizons. And I think that it’s less the magnificence of their trek, and more about the humility of their obedience to the trek. For if I was left with a single prayer to utter, it would be to be more like them.

I incessantly wallow in the ‘muck and mire’ of the terrible messes that I have made. And when I realize that God has long ago removed all the ‘muck and mire,’ I suddenly understand that the only wallowing that’s going on is in my head.

I suppose that Christmas seems vexingly improbable in my mind because that’s not anything that I would do. But isn’t that the exact reason why we need Christmas?

If I only go as far as I can take myself, I’m not all that certain that I’ve gone much of anywhere at all. But once I dared to look outside of myself, I realized that God hands out unlimited passes to the anywhere of everywhere.

It’s not about believing in something. Rather, it’s about what I believe in. And too often what I believe in is that there’s nothing to believe in.

An attitude of thankfulness keeps me centered when every attitude other than thankfulness promises me a center that it can’t find.

If by ‘late’ we mean showing up on our time-table, then God is likely to be late most every time.

When it’s dark, I can’t see my hand in front of my face. Yet, no matter how deep the darkness might be, God sees both. And when I realize that, the dark never really gets that dark.

Hope is not some flimsy belief that things might somehow work out. Rather, hope is a belief in a God who’s already worked it out.