Lament is a cry of belief in a good God, a God who has His ear to our hearts, a God who transfigures the ugly into beauty. Complaint is the bitter howl of unbelief in...

Instead of filling with expectations, the joy-filled expect nothing–and are filled.

I speak the unseen into seeing and I can feel it, this steady breathing in the rhythm of grace–‘give thanks (in), give thanks (out)’.

Trauma’s storm can mask the Christ and feelings can lie. I draw all the hurting voices close and I tough their scars with a whisper: sometimes we don’t fully see that in Christ, because of...

Counting one thousand gifts means counting the hard things — otherwise I’ve miscounted.

Humbly let go. Let go of trying to do, let go of trying to control, let go of my own way, let go of my own fears. Let God blow His wind, His trials, oxygen...

Simplicity is ultimately a matter of focus.

Is the height of my chara joy dependent on the depths of my eucharisteo thanks?

That is what a shadow is, and empty space, a hole in the light. Evil is this – a hole in the goodness of God.