I am now officially ordained. Yep, that's right - Reverend Tori Spelling!
See your enemies, not as God's failures, but as God's projects.
Write today's worries in sand. Chisel yesterday's victories in stone.
What you and I might rate as an absolute disaster, God may rate as a pimple-level problem that will pass. He views your life the way you view a movie after you've read the book. When something bad happens, you feel the air sucked out of the theater. Everyone else gasps at the crisis on the screen. Not you. Why? You've read the book. You know how the good guy gets out of the tight spot. God views your life with the same confidence. He's not only read your story. . . he wrote it.
Worry is anti-trust. If you're worried, you don't trust something: your kids, their friends, strangers, the church, even God. Can He take care of your children? Certainly. Jesus says, 'I tell you, stop being anxious and worried about your life. ' Pretty blunt. Stop it! Easier said than done, huh? Worry tests your trust, so hand your children to God and let Him babysit your babies when you're not around. He's pretty good at it!
Your pain has a purpose. Your problems, struggles, heartaches, and hassles cooperate toward one end-the glory of God.
Anger is the noise of the soul; the unseen irritant of the heart; the relentless invader of silence.
Again, somehow, one saw life, a pure bead. I lifted the pencil again, useless though I knew it to be. But even as I did so, the unmistakable tokens of death showed themselves. The body relaxed, and instantly grew stiff. The struggle was over. The insignificant little creature now knew death. As I looked at the dead moth, this minute wayside triumph of so great a force over so mean an antagonist filled me with wonder. Just as life had been strange a few minutes before, so death was now as strange.
There are times when I catch myself believing that there is such a thing as something; which is separate from something else.
I just had to find all my friends that used to be in the business. As I say, the music business didn't die, it just moved to Nashville.
The good, the admirable reader identifies himself not with the boy or the girl in the book, but with the mind that conceived and composed that book.