For Outlandish Creatures Like Us, On Our

When [our Secrets] Are Sad And Hurtful Secrets, Like My Father's Death, We Can In A Way Honor The Hurt By Letting Ourselves Feel It As We Never Let Ourselves Feel It Before, And Then, Having Felt It, By Laying It Aside; We Can Start To Take Care Of Ourselves The Way We Take Care Of People We Love.

You Do Not Need To Understand Healing To Be Healed Or Know Anything About Blessing To Be Blessed.

God Doesn't Reveal His Grand Design. He Reveals Himself.

Jesus Is Apt To Come, Into The Very Midst Of Life At Its Most Real And Inescapable Moments. Not In A Blaze Of Unearthly Light, Not In The Midst Of A Sermon, Not In The Throes Of Some Kind Of Religious Daydream, But...at Supper Time, Or Walking Along A Road...he Never Approached From On High, But Always In The Midst, In The Midst Of People, In The Midst Of Real Life And The Questions That Real Life Asks.

Faith Is Homesickness. Faith Is A Lump In The Throat. Faith Is Less A Position On Than A Movement Toward, Less A Sure Thing Than A Hunch. Faith Is Waiting.