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.

Hope sees what we can’t. And because we can’t, hope asks us to believe that it can.

God’s faith in me always dwarfs my faith in Him.

It’s not so much about the difficult place that I’m at, although that’s what’s probably got most of my attention. Rather, it’s more about how I got here. Because whatever that is, if I don’t change it I’m going to live out the whole of my life is some pretty similar places.

The absence of God in our lives is a result of our absence of reason, for if He is absent it is because we requested it. So, to have an absence of reason that results in the absence of God leaves me absent of both.

If we have relegated vision solely to a function of the eyes, we are blind indeed.

The pit is of my own making.  The rescue is of God's love.  And the deliverance is my acceptance of both.

The word “impossible” is a word concocted by men so that we might have some tasteless verbiage to describe the way that we’ve surrendered to our limitations. But if we’re walking with God attempting to justify surrender is itself impossible, so maybe we should trash the verbiage and embrace our God.

Half of the time I think I know what I’m doing. The other half of the time I’m doubting that I really knew what I was doing the first half of the time. So that leaves me turning to God all of the time.