I mean that the reason God seems to act in ways that make no sense to us is that our perceptions are wrong. Our expectations are subtly twisted. We long for things that harm us and run from the things that grow and heal us. We think good is bad and bad is good. God acts rightly, but to us, it seems confusing. Or sometimes plain wrong.
My God, what did I do to deserve such a reward? This was how I wanted to wake for the rest of my existence: Rose's beautiful blonde hair, pouring over her shoulders and onto my arms. Her sweet scent filling my nose, her sexy body pressed into mine just right. Damn, I had never wanted anything more than I wanted her in that moment.
There’s a certain worth that can only be given to us by God. You see, if you think about it, worth has nothing to do with the object. Worth has everything to do with how much someone is willing to pay for the object. God paid for each and every one of us with His son’s life. That gives me chills. That makes us worth a lot.
More often than not, we want him to have fairy wings and spread fairy dust and shine like a precious little star, dispensing nothing but good times on everyone, like some kind of hybrid of Tinker Bell and Aladdin’s Genie. But the God of the Bible, this God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, is a pillar of fire and a column of smoke.
Our vision is so limited we can hardly imagine a love that does not show itself in protection from suffering.... The love of God did not protect His own Son.... He will not necessarily protect us - not from anything it takes to make us like His Son. A lot of hammering and chiseling and purifying by fire will have to go into the process.
Faith is the key to spiritual growth and requires a deep and personal connection with God. He wants to be the head of our hearts, king of our souls, and guide to our spirit. By allowing Him free reign in these areas we create an opportunity for lasting intimacy with the Creator. From intimacy comes confidence – in Him and in us.
The time of my departure is here. Place your hand gently on the soil beside my own, and feel the rumble of the earth beneath. The power of a thousand thousands is coming... evil warriors fighting against the Noble One. Here I stand with Him. Take up your sword and come with me, for the Prince is calling. And if you do not go... who will?
Work is a blessing. God has so arranged the world that work is necessary, and He gives us hands and strength to do it. The enjoyment of leisure would be nothing if we had only leisure. It is the joy of work well done that enables us to enjoy rest, just as it is the experiences of hunger and thirst that make food and drink such pleasures.
ليس في وسع البشر أن يتجنَّبوا المصير، حتى لو رأوه سَلَفاً
As we discard a limited mind and a life of limitation to step into the grandness of vastness, we realize infinity itself to be the Guru and all that we do as grace. As we traverse through consciousness that is the Guru, we become the Guru and each thought of ours is perfect in the now, as scriptures. Consciousness is the Guru, the wisdom.
Because I am not yet living up to what Jesus expects me to be in those red letters in the Bible, I always define myself as somebody who is saved by God's grace and is on his way to becoming a Christian. (...) Being saved is trusting in what Christ did for us, but being Christian is dependent on the way we respond to what he did for us.
Keep back nothing. Nothing that you have not given away will ever be really yours. Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead. Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.
Meg,” he whispered. “It wouldn’t be real love if there weren’t the possibility for another response to him. If we couldn’t choose not to love him, then our love would be empty. That’s why there’s evil in this world, because there’s free choice in this world. He allows the one to prove the other.
Goodbye, Christian," I murmur."Ana, goodbye," he says softly, and he looks utterly, utterly broken,a man in agonizing pain, reflecting how I feel inside. I tear my gaze away from him before I can change my mind and try to comfort him.The elevator doors close close and it whisks me down to the bowels of the basement and to my own personal hell.
It's just because I have picked a little about mystics that I have no use for mystagogues. Real mystics don't hide mysteries, they reveal them. They set a thing up in broad daylight, and when you've seen it it's still a mystery. But the mystagogues hide a thing in darkness and secrecy, and when you find it, it's a platitude.
