I do believe that God is with us even when we’re at our craziest and that this goodness guides, provides, and protects.
The worst part about celebrating another birthday is the shock that you’re only as well as you are.
It’s funny where we look for salvation, and where we actually find it.
The grief and tears didn’t wash me away. They gave me my life back! They cleansed me, baptized me, hydrated the earth at my feet.
Some people won’t go the extra mile, and then on their birthday, when no one makes a fuss, they feel neglected and bitter.
Anything you say from your heart to God is a prayer.
The first holy truth in God 101 is that men and women of true faith have always had to accept the mystery of God’s identity and love and ways. I hate that, but it’s the truth.
What people somehow forgot to mention when we were children was that we need to make messes in order to find out who we are and why we are here.
You know, we’re often ashamed of asking for so much help because it seems selfish or petty or narcissistic, but I think, if there’s a God – and I believe there is – that God is there to help. That’s what God’s job is.
Everyone is screwed up, broken, clingy, and scared.
The first draft is the child’s draft, where you let it all pour out and then let it romp all over the place, knowing that no one is going to see it and that you can shape it later.
Some people seem to understand this – that life and change take time – but I am not one of those people.
My deepest belief is that to live as if we’re dying can set us free. Dying people teach you to pay attention and to forgive and not to sweat the small things.
I accidentally forgot to graduate from college.
Looking back on the God my friend believed in, he seems a little erratic, not entirely unlike her father – God as borderline personality.
I could become like that dyslexic agnostic in the old joke – the one who lies in bed and tries to figure out if his dog exists.
Sometimes it feels like God has reached down and touched me, blessed me a thousand times over, and sometimes it all feels like a mean joke, like God’s advisers are Muammar Qaddafi and Phyllis Schlafly.
I get to tell my truth. I get to seek meaning and realization. I get to live fully, wildly, imperfectly. That’s why I’m alive. And all I actually have to offer as a writer is my version of life. Every single thing that has happened to me is mine.
The evidence is in, and you are the verdict.
If the present is really all we have, then the present lasts forever.