They told me that nothing was a sin, just a poor life choice. Poor impulse control. That nothing is evil. Any concept of right versus wrong, according to them, is merely a cultural construct relative to one specific time and place. They said that if anything should force us to modify our personal behavior it should be our allegiance to a social contract, not some vague, externally imposed threat of flaming punishment.
Churches were never meant to be mental hospitals. They were supposed to be military outposts under orders to storm the gates of hell. Every believer is on active duty and called to serve a higher purpose with the rank of their blessings and talents.
May your sleep be your death, and your wakefulness be your heaven.
Yeah, but what does that even mean… heaven? Because see, I need to be able to put him somewhere, Zo. In my head, I mean. I need to be able to close my eyes and picture him and know he’s okay. And just saying the word heaven doesn’t help that much. Because like what is heaven, exactly? And where is it? And what do you do there?
What if my greatest disappointments, or the aching of this life, is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy?
Heaven must be very beautiful, of course, the Bible says so – but, Anne, it won’t be what I’ve been used to.
Dance,’ they told me, and I stood still,
and while I stood quiet in line at the gate of the Kingdom, I danced.
‘Pray,’ they said, and I laughed,
covering myself in the earth’s brightnesses,
and then stole off gray into the midst of a revel,
and prayed like an orphan.
If it’s possible to send a message from heaven, I’ll get one to you.
Faith is throwing yourself into the arms of the unknown and trusting that you will be safe in the hands of that monster
Now the soul says, ‘Lord, where shall I go? You have the words of eternal life.’ [John 6: 68] Here he centers, here he settles. It is the entrance of heaven to him; he sees his interest in God.