To Be Bored To Death Is A

. . . [t]o Live Not With Hands Clenched To Grasp, To Strike, To Hold Tight To A Life That Is Always Slipping Away The More Tightly We Hold It, But . . . To Live With The Hands Stretched Out Both To Give And Receive With Gladness.

Preaching And Writing - It's The Same. Whether I'm Writing To Speak Or Writing To Be Read In A Book, It's The Same Thing.

We Find By Losing. We Hold Fast By Letting Go. We Become Something New By Ceasing To Be Something Old. This Seems To Be Close To The Heart Of That Mystery. I Know No More Now Than I Ever Did About The Far Side Of Death As The Last Letting-go Of All, But Now I Know That I Do Not Need To Know, And That I Do Not Need To Be Afraid Of Not Knowing. God Knows. That Is All That Matters.

One Of The Blunders Religious People Are Particularly Fond Of Making Is The Attempt To Be More Spiritual Than God

The Fearsome Blessing Of That Hard Time Continues To Work Itself Out In My Life In The Same Way We're Told The Universe Is Still Hurtling Through Outer Space Under The Impact Of The Great Cosmic Explosion.... I Think Grace Sometimes Explodes Into Our Lives Like That-sending Our Pain, Terror, Astonishment Hurtling Through Inner Space Until By Grace They Become Orion, Cassiopeia, Polaris To Give Us Our Bearings, To Bring Us Into Something Like Full Being At Last.