Some of our greatest problems in ministering to people is that they knew us back before we came to the Lord
Small towns begin with a sign. The words can be as simple as the title of a story--Welcome to Harberville, Now entering Clawson--but once you cross, you are inside that story, and all that you do will...
Sarah watched the man sitalongside other homeless clients.Despite their awful circumstances, theywere going on with life, getting throughit as best they could.
Sacrifice is a part of life. It's supposed to be. It's not something to regret. It's something to aspire to. Sometimes when you sacrifice something precious, you're not really losing it. You're just p...
Sacrfice, the captain said. You made one. I made one. We all made them. But you were angry over yours. You kept thinking about what you lost. You didn't get it. Sacrifice is a part of life. It's suppo...
Please, please, please, please, please...,, squeezing his eyes shut because it somehow made the words more pure.
People think of heaven as a paradise garden, a place where they can float on clouds and laze in rivers and mountains. But scenery without solace is meaningless. - This is the greatest gift God can giv...
People often ask what I miss about Morrie. I miss that belief in humanity. I miss the eyes that could view life so encouragingly. And I miss his laugh. I really do.
Our words will always be sincere, our embraces will be tight. We will never wallow in the agony of ‘I could have, I should have.’ We can sleep in a storm. And when it’s time, our good-byes will be com...
Only God can write the end of your story.God has left me alone, Dor said.The old man shook his head. You were never alone.
One of my disciples, a lanky saxophonist named Sonny Rollins, played his horn for three years on a bridge in New York City, his tender jazz melodies wafting between the traffic noises. I would pause t...
My grandparents did these things. My parents, too. If I take the pattern and throw it out, what does that say about their lives? Or mine? From generation to generation, these rituals are how we remain...
My funeral, the Blue Man said. Look at the mourners. Some did not even know me well, yet they came. Why? Did you ever wonder? Why people gather when others die? Why people feel they should? It is beca...
Mitch, he said, the culture doesn’t encourage you to think about such things until you’re about to die. We’re so wrapped up with egotistical things, career, family, having enough money, meeting the mo...
Mitch, that's what faith is. If they spit in your face, you say it must be raining. But you still come back tomorrow.
Mitch, it is impossible for the old not to envy the young. But the issue is to accept who you are and revel in that. This is your time to be in your thirties. I had my time to be in my thirties, and n...
Marguerite said something about the bikini bathing suits the young girls were wearing and how she would never have the nerve to wear such a thing. Eddie said the girls were lucky, because if she did t...
Love lost, is still love...You can't see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken, another heightens. Memory.
Love like rain, can nourish from above, drenching couples with soaking joy. But sometimes, under the angry heat of life, love dries on the surface and must nourish from below, tending to its roots, ke...
Love her or some other guy will.Love like there is no tomorrow, cause there may not be.Never take what/who you have for granted cause it will end up turning into something you had.Do what it takes to...