“My story: Salvation. My song; the same singing to Jesus, and blessing his name.”

A skillful sailor was never made from still water.

I want to be free like a bird, I will fly. In you I will find freedom, for you the sky.

Look at the flowers, and the birds in the sky, if they never worry then why should I? for he holds my life in his hands.

I think maybe its time for us to redefine love.

Her beautiful smile, her soft, tender heart; she’s an actual, walking, work of art.

I feel so deeply sometimes I forget that others don’t feel things to these same depths.

No matter where you are or where you are going, know this: there’s still hope in the midst of not knowing.

Fear, you have no place here.

You are you and that is all you need to be.

Hope may come in many ways but cling to this: God will never change hope found in him will always remain.

I know god has a plan for me, so I can be at peace, knowing that on the road beyond he’ll always be with me.

So I throw my life in your hands, it was always yours anyway.

This is not the end of what you are doing; in fact, its the very beginning.

If you don’t appreciate the now, when the later becomes the now, you won’t appreciate it either.

There is so much joy to be found on this journey if only we acre to stop and look.

Hope comes when you stop looking around and start looking up.

Success tends to bless those who are most committed to giving it the most attention.

Blessed be He, Who came into the world for no other purpose than to suffer.

Considering that the blessed life we so long for consists in an intimate and true love of God Our Creator and Lord, which binds and obliges us all to a sincere love.

Be careful not to try and fast forward yourself into a future you haven’t earned, Blessings on the journey.

You must decide if you are going to rob the world or bless it with the rich, valuable, potent, untapped resources locked away within you.

Because a woman brought death a bright Maiden overcame it, and so the highest blessing in all of creation lies in the form of a woman, since God has become man in a sweet and blessed Virgin.

Your lines, I maintain it, are poetry, and good poetry. Friendship had I been so blest as to have met with you in time, might have led me – God of love only knows where.

Pacifists become militants. Freedom fighters become tyrants. Blessings become curses. Help becomes hindrance. More becomes less.