“Behind every trial and sorrow that He makes us shoulder, God has a reason.”

One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.

Behind every trial and sorrow that He makes us shoulder, God has a reason.

I’ve read that if an avalanche buries you and you’re lying there underneath all that snow, you can’t tell which way is up or down. You want to dig yourself out but pick the wrong way, and you dig yourself to your own demise.

A sudden happiness catches me unawares. I feel it trickling into me, and my eyes go liquid with gratitude and hope.

Behind every trial and sorrow that He makes us shoulder, God has a reason.

I’ve read that if an avalanche buries you and you’re lying there underneath all that snow, you can’t tell which way is up or down. You want to dig yourself out but pick the wrong way, and you dig yourself to your own demise.

A sudden happiness catches me unawares. I feel it trickling into me, and my eyes go liquid with gratitude and hope.

I’ve read that if an avalanche buries you and you’re lying there underneath all that snow, you can’t tell which way is up or down. You want to dig yourself out but pick the wrong way, and you dig yourself to your own demise.

But time, it is like charm. You never have as much as you think.

A sudden happiness catches me unawares. I feel it trickling into me, and my eyes go liquid with gratitude and hope.

But time, it is like charm. You never have as much as you think.

But time, it is like charm. You never have as much as you think.

I want to tear myself from this place, from this reality, rise up like a cloud and float away, melt into this humid summer night and dissolve somewhere far, over the hills. But I am here, my legs blocks of concrete, my lungs empty of air, my throat burning. There will be no floating away.

I want to tear myself from this place, from this reality, rise up like a cloud and float away, melt into this humid summer night and dissolve somewhere far, over the hills. But I am here, my legs blocks of concrete, my lungs empty of air, my throat burning. There will be no floating away.

And every day I thank [God] that I am alive, not because I fear death, but because my wife has a husband and my son is not an orphan.

I want to tear myself from this place, from this reality, rise up like a cloud and float away, melt into this humid summer night and dissolve somewhere far, over the hills. But I am here, my legs blocks of concrete, my lungs empty of air, my throat burning. There will be no floating away.

Christ comes as a thief in the night, & it is not for us to know the times & seasons which God hath put into his own breast.

While I know myself as a creation of God, I am also obligated to realize and remember that everyone else and everything else are also God’s creation.

God is doing a new thing. He’s looking for people whose hearts are turned toward Him.

God’s voice is usually nothing more than a whisper, and you have to listen very carefully to hear it.

There are three things important to every man in this locker room. His God, his family, and the Green Bay Packers. In that order.

Thank god, I’m not from this world.

We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence.

We may ignore, but we can nowhere evade the presence of God. The world is crowded with Him. He walks everywhere incognito.