These are quotes which stood out to me, possibly for use in a sermon someday. Their presence here does not mean I agree with them, it merely shows that I might want to reference them later. The default view is five random selections. Use the tag list on the right to view all quotes relevant to that theme.
We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass
The stockbroker received notice from the IRS that he was being audited. He showed up at the appointed time and place with all his financial records, then sat for what seemed like hours as the accountant pored over them. Finally the IRS agent looked up and commented, "You must have been a tremendous fan of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle." "Why would you say that?" wondered the broker. "Because you've made more brilliant deductions on your last three returns than Sherlock Holmes made in his entire career."
When he was still an atheist, Lewis had an awful time accepting the central nature of God in the Bible. He called God's demands for praise the soundings of an old woman seeking compliments for herself. That's how the Psalms sounded to him, when he read repeatedly, "Praise the Lord." Such continual repetition for praise seemed remarkably vain. Yet, as Lewis had a change in heart toward God, he realized that he had made a simple but profound error on the nature of praise. Said Lewis: The most obvious fact about praise--whether of God or anything--strangely escaped me. I thought of it in terms of compliment, approval, or the giving of honor. I had never noticed that all enjoyment spontaneously overflows into praise. . . The world rings with praise--lovers praising their [loved one], readers their favorite poet, walkers praising the countryside. . .My whole, more general difficulty about the praise of God depended on my. . . denying. . . what we delight to do, what indeed we can't help doing, about everything else we value. . . .I think we delight to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment; [praise] is [enjoyment�s] appointed consummation. . . . The delight is incomplete till it is expressed.
When I was seven or eight, we lived next to a boarded-up school. We took turns rotating the merry-go-round in the playground for our friends. They'd climb on and grab the rails, and we'd run alongside as fast as we could, pushing. The bigger kids relished the thrill of hanging out beyond the platform to experience maximum Gs. The smaller ones were taught to quit crying by slowly working toward the center pole. The closer you got, the more stability you enjoyed. This is an important principle. The faster your life goes, the more focused you must be on your center if you're to survive and thrive. And what or who is the center of your life? It's not your family or career; it shouldn't be your golf game or favorite football team. It's God. We often forget or neglect that. Due to the exhilaration of our ride or sheer panic from its velocity, we hang on for dear life but never catch our breath. It's time we realign our activities around the security of that perfect center, drawing closer to him.
Fear and worry are a lot like a scarecrow. What harm can a scarecrow do? We scarecrow constructors know that the answer is "none," but the birds don't know that. You're smarter than a bird. That's why the prophet Jeremiah says that some of the enemy's greatest threats are "like a scarecrow in a melon patch.... Do not fear them; they can do no harm" (Jeremiah 10:5).... If those black birds ever figured out our strategy, they'd realize that a scarecrow is actually a tip-off to the location of the best corn. So isn't it possible that the very fears the enemy tries to plant in your mind are unwitting advertisements to God's good stuff?