We don’t think of our flaws as the glue that binds us to the people we love, but they are. Grace only sticks to our imperfections. Those who can’t accept their imperfections can’t accept grace either.
So I wrote. I wrote as though God thought my voice mattered. I wrote because I believed a human story was beautiful, no matter how small the human was. I wrote because I didn’t make myself, God did. And I wrote like he’d invited me to share my true “self” with the world.
The reality is people are impressed with all kinds of things: intelligence, power, money, charm, talent, and so on. But the ones we tend to stay in love with are, in the long run, the ones who do a decent job loving us back.
A good story makes you thankful to be alive because it reminds you that while sometimes painful, life is indeed beautiful and even magical.
Almost without exception the most beautiful, selfless people I’ve met are ones who’ve experienced personal tragedy.
Perhaps that’s another reason true intimacy is so frightening. It’s the one thing we all want, and must give up control to get.
The harshest people I’ve met over the years have had two things in common: they don’t fully trust anybody, and they view relationships as a means to an end.
The strongest character in a story isn’t the hero, it’s the guide.
It’s funny what happens to you when part of your heart gets born inside somebody else.
How can we be loved if we are always in hiding?
In every line of copy we write, we’re either serving the customer’s story or descending into confusion; we’re either making music or making noise.
They never tell you when you get born a control freak it will cost you a healthy love life. But it’s true. You can’t control somebody and have intimacy with them at the same time. They may stay because they fear you, but true love casts out fear.
The reality is this, though: a healthy person coupled with an unhealthy person will still result in an unhealthy relationship.
But true intimacy is just like that: it’s the food you grow from well-tilled ground. And like most things good for us, it’s an acquired taste.
I think a lot of the shame-based religious and political methodology has more to do with keeping people contained than with setting them free. And I’m no fan of it.
We both have our independence and freedom, but we have those things with each other. It’s a paradox, but it works. It all reminded me of what my friend Henry Cloud told me, that when two people are entirely and completely separate they are finally compatible to be one. Nobody’s self-worth lives inside of another person. Intimacy means we are independently together.
I tend to connect most easily with two kinds of people, those who are creating something and those who are easily vulnerable. Both trees grow from the same root, I think, and that’s the willingness to take risks.
It’s true: if we live behind a mask we can impress but we can’t connect.
But it’s better when you have somebody to go home to and talk about it with, somebody who is more in love with you than impressed by you.
The risk of being known is also the decision to be criticized by some.