Even out of blackness, love rises again.
Sometimes it’s okay to just look at the world and say, “Why? Why? Why? I don’t understand.”
The more that we know, the less we bend. The more brittle we become, the easier to break.
That’s what it means to have faith, that in the darkness, in the worst of it, in the absence of light and hope, we sing.
That’s the thing about where we’ve been. It’s important, sure. But it’s not as important as where we’re going.
God still has a plan, and death isn’t part of it anymore.
Can you think of a miracle more amazing than that? I mean, cure blindness, sure. Or part the seas, all right. But a second chance? That’s a real miracle.
As adults, we tend to dislike mysteries. We feel uncomfortable not knowing.
Suffering can be a gift. It all just depends on us. What we do with it, how we react to it.
