I have a theory about the assists we get in life. Only rarely can we repay those people who helped us, but we can pass that help along to others.

Forgiveness is mandatory; reconciliation is optional.

People who care more about being right than ending right prove just how wrong they were all along.

Wounds. Broken places. Possibility. Change. Steps toward holiness. Imperfect progress. The hurt in those who hurt me---their underbellies. Grace. Love. Me looking alot more like Jesus than I did before. And to discover through all this seeing---being unglued isn't all that bad.

There is a special place in hell for women who don't help other women. (Keynote speech at Celebrating Inspiration luncheon with the WNBA's All-Decade Team, 2006)

We want nothing from you that you do without grace or [...] understanding.

The refusal to love is the only unbearable thing.

Oh, Meg, you are a moron, Calvin said. Don't you know you're the nicest thing that's happened to me in a long time?

We want nothing from you that you do without grace," Mrs Whatsit said, "or that you do without understanding.

It's a stage we all go through; it takes a certain amount of living to strike the strange balance between the two errors either of regarding ourselves as unforgivable or as not needing forgiveness.

Expand my love, Lord, so I can help to bear the pain, help your love move my love into the tired prostitute with false eyelashes and bunioned feet, the corrupt policeman with his hand open for graft, the addict, the derelict, the woman in the mink coat and discontented mouth, the high school girl with heavy books and frightened eyes. Help me through these scandalous particulars to understand your love. Help me to pray.

I'll ask you a riddle. What do you have the more of, the more of it you give away?