I have forged many things that I believe to be things of great beauty. Yet if God is not a part of them, they are entirely counterfeit and I have been robbed blind by the work of my own hands.

I much prefer not to fall, unless of course I am falling into the hands of God.

I can amass countless fortunes and yet stand with empty hands. I can seek God and have fortunes that fill countless hands.

Often we don’t see the majesty of God’s design because we’re caught up in the mediocrity of our own designs.

There was a moment when any hope within me froze solid and I was finally emptied of all energy to fight the cold. And at the very point of that very surrender, when I became convinced that I must bow to a world that would be forever frigid, God cupped the hands of my soul and poured in the warmth of Christmas.

Things that are truly great need nothing from me, and to somehow think that they do speaks to my utter lack of greatness.