God sits enthroned, ready to listen, to help.

Joy is a weapon we use to fight life's battles.

Always remain suspicious that God is up to something good.

Joy emanates out of the abiding sense of God’s fierce love for us.

Sometimes you have to poke holes in the darkness until it bleeds light.

I had been searching for joy in the relatively good times of life, now I had to find joy amidst darkness and agony.

When we fight back with joy, we awaken to the deepest reality of our identity as beloved, delightful children of God.

God is constantly on the move. I cannot stay where I am and follow God at the same time; responding requires movement.

Worry is a subtle way of telling God that He's fallen asleep at the wheel and that things aren't under His authority, but ours.

Prayer might not change things, but it will change my perspective of things. Prayer might not change the past, but inevitably, it changes the present.

You must learn to hush the demons that whisper, 'No one wants to read this. This has already been said. Your voice doesn't matter.' In the rare moments when the voices finally hush, you might hear the angels singing.

The wonder of prayer is rediscovered in who we're speaking to. Prayer is a mystical event by which we get to talk to the Creator of all-the One who fashioned our world with a few words-knowing that God not only listens but answers.

Wide awake to the presence of God, I realized I had been so focused on asking why a good God allowed bad things to happen that I was missing out on the nearness of God all along. In becoming preoccupied with the why, I was missing the who.

How often have I rattled on with God and said nothing at all? Relying on clichés, throwaway phrases, and high language I'd never use in everyday conversation, I took prayer for granted and lost sight of the wondrous opportunity to draw close to God.

Many of us say we want to experience God, but we don’t look for his majesty. [Tweet this] We travel life’s paths with our heads down, focused on the next step with our careers or families or retirement plans. But we don’t really expect God to show up with divine wonder.

The seventh day of creation is the most eloquent and insightful as to the nature of God. From a literary perspective, the Sabbath forms the pinnacle of the story. Like the dramatic kiss of a soldier returning from war, this is the moment we’re not meant to miss. In choosing rest as the grand finale, God reveals himself as one driven by neither anxiety nor fear but one who finds gladness in both the work of creation and the creation of work.

God is not merely at your fingertips but within your grasp. Live each day like a child digging through an antique treasure chest rifling for the next discovery. Open your arms and your eyes to the God who stands in plain sight and works miracles in your midst. Look for him in your workdays and weekends, in your meeting-filled Mondays and your lazy Saturdays. Search for him in the snowy sunsets and Sabbaths, seasons of Lent and sitting at your table. Pray for—and expect—wonder. For when you search for God, you will discover him.

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