"He stepped aside and tried to make a few calls. Hugging his daughter and grabbing his head, you could tell he was heartbroken. This woman next to him at the front counter heard the whole thing."
“This is the story of a little girl’s love of a green dress, a mother who tries to instill independence, and how those two things came together in the most epic and brilliant combination possible."
You say you don’t hear from God anymore, but I wonder if you’re really listening. It may be hard to hear Him over the lies that have tried to blind you to His heart for you.
“This adoration can transform sporadic and stammering prayers into a constant and characteristic attitude of reverence and dependence on a higher power.”
“We do exist for His glory, God created man and woman to glorify Him. Our ultimate purpose in life is to glorify God. He’s given us all talents and abilities, which we use, but ultimately He created us to glorify Himself because He is God and He can do that.”
"And I just asked for a little bit of help, and suddenly, pow. It was just like, bingo. It was like being possessed by a demon, an addiction, and I couldn’t stop."
"During one of our many, heartfelt conversations my patient shared his broken spirit, in shaking, emotional words. He cried, “I’m defective!” And my heart broke for him. Empathetic, I felt his pain. I had known it myself. I wanted to run to his rescue, to console my son, to encourage him, to tell him how lovely he was."
Broken girls become broken women, lacking love, yet seeking it desperately. I always put so much stock in how others felt about me. I was the new kid on the block who just wanted to be your friend, or the quiet girl pining for the cool guy, drawing secret doodles of his name in study hall. A people pleaser by nature, like a loyal pup longing to have its ears scratched while hearing, “yes, you’re a good girl.”
As children of God, we feel like when we fail God is absent, sitting up high on a cloud, smirking over the idiocy of His creation. We cower under fear of this cruel world because we think we are alone. We assume Dad has left us to our own devices.
