Act ahead of your feelings and trust that one day your feelings will match your convictions. Choose now and continue to choose this incredible truth.

John Henry Newman views the visible world as a veil "so that all that exists or happens visibly, conceals and yet suggests, and above all serves, a greater system of persons, facts and events beyond itself."

Don't be afraid. Don't run off. Trust that Christ will be born in that place.

Whatever happens to me in life, I must believe that somewhere, In the mess or madness of it all, There is a sacred potential—

Faith is the radical trust that home has always been there and always will be there.

When we live with hope we do not get tangled up with concerns for how our wishes will be fulfilled. So, too, our prayers are not directed toward the gift, but toward the one who gives it. Our prayers might still contain just as many desires, but ultimately it is not a question of having a wish come true but of expressing an unlimited faith in the giver of all good things. You wish that…but you hope in….

Faith asks us to jump, to surrender and believe that somewhere, somehow, Someone will catch us and bring us home.

You need never be discouraged or afraid. The way through difficulties has always been prepared for you, and you will find it if you exercise faith.

We must walk consciously only part way toward our goal, and then leap in the dark to our success.

If a man has faith, he will co-operate with equal faith everywhere; if he has not faith, he will continue to live like the rest of the world, whatever company he is joined to.

And so, through all the thick mists of the dim doubts in my mind, divine intuitions now and then shoot, enkindling my fog with a heavenly ray. And for this I thank God; for all have doubts; many deny; but doubts or denials, few along with them, have intuitions. Doubts of all things earthly, and intuitions of some things heavenly; this combination makes neither believer nor infidel, but makes a man who regards them both with equal eye.

But Faith, like a jackal, feeds among the tombs, and even from these dead doubts she gathers her most vital hope. (Moby Dick; Chap 7 p36)