Quotes about christian-fiction

So in a man’s mind, he appraises, negotiates, defines, delineates, weighs the information, and that includes God. As you can see, this is a relationship of management, not trust. You don’t trust things you can manage, you manage them. And so, God as information is managed and no relationship of trust is fostered.

At the same time, they find their mind-god has played a trick on them. For mind is a part of the very system it has closed around it, and being inside, there is no reason to think any statement made by some part concerning the whole has any validity. Mind was caused by the material universe, if mind is right. But only the greater can accurately define the lesser, never the other way round, so if mind is right, mind would never know.

The more we train a man to labor, deliberate, dictate and demand over the inconsequential, the less capable his mind becomes of holding that of consequence.

He considered telling her that she could, and often, if she married him.

The assumption of no God cannot be proven by science.

When the devil comes knocking on your door simply say "Jesus, it's for you.

I’m a soldier. Believe me when I say that the greatest weapon anyone can use is not the sword but love. One day the world will see that and it won’t need men like me anymore.”-Antoine (from Twiceborn)

Help me Lord be a Light and not a shadow in the darkness of my fears.

For the first time in fifteen years, he felt a mother's love again.

But in her heart she truly believed she was a better lady than Lady Dorothea ever was. Was it wrong to think she was nobler in her heart than the true nobleman's daughter?

I couldn't shake Zander's beady red eyes or the noise of his pounding wings behind us. His hot breath and foul stench reached for us, but couldn't catch us as we soared above liquid green fields in the Realm Beyond.

All night, I thought about that walk. The touch of the forest tickled my skin long after, while the scent lingered in my nostrils. It was unlike anything back home. There was a feeling in the atmosphere I couldn't shake--something that was trying to draw me back. I felt alive in that forest. --His Name is Moonlight

I felt empowered by him, as if his very existence manipulated the balance of my nature from a shy little girl to wonder woman.

You would have only seen a skittish young deer jumping through the forest, having no idea it was a little girl.

I'm going to tell you something I probably shouldn't.

Their blissfully soft texture calmed me but alerted me at the same time. I couldn't explain the gentle spark of light that dripped off the edges. And of course, the aqua trim felt way too familiar.

If the only tool in Willem's arsenal was a silent supplication to an absent almighty, then I might as well be sitting next to a raving radical ready to die for the promise of seventy-two virgins and a couple of camels.

Dear Charles, she wrote. After writing to express my appreciation for all the generosity of our friends, I would be remiss indeed if I did not include a missive to you. Out of all the new blessings in my new life, the one I thank God for the most is you. I thank you for writing to me through Genteel Correspondence, and for choosing me out of all the other women eager for adventure in the wild west. I thank you for your kindness, and your gentleness toward me. Only very strong men can be gentle.

It is when the individual's faith is weak, not strong, that he will be afraid of an honest fictional representation of life; and when there is a tendency to compartmentalize the spiritual and make it resident in a certain type of life only, the supernatural is apt gradually to be lost.

dianemoorewriter.comFebruary 11, 2015 · From Love Thy Neighbor" On journalism and news purists as well as why I pursued print instead of TV journalism/news at the No. 1 journalism school in the country: news reporters are willing to take risks "so that people can base their lives on a foundation of truth not lies. That's why I do it -- to be the one responsible voice in the crowd." Page 105' "Love Thy Neighbor

Dear Lord," she prayed, "please help me to handle all the work You've set before me. I can only do this with You at my side. Amen.

And once their imaginations are liberated, they begin glimpse the grand interconnectedness of all things. Eternity begins to peek out from behind the everyday things and they see the trappings of any earthly moment as the stage and props for Heaven to reveal itself. There is now nothing ordinary. Everything is being used and spun out for His vast scheme and in His eternal economy, nothing is wasted. Suddenly, all the myriad moments and minutiae of a lifetime show their orchestration —there was n

When their minds mingle with His magnanimity, something of eternity rubs off on their imaginations.

They prefer a God of an altogether softer flavor. Nothing too extreme. Complaisance, not magnanimity. They do not think upon the “God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God.” They prefer to think in terms of “God liking them.” That’s the God they’ve conjured for themselves.

The eye is to light as the soul is to God.

You must also forgive yourself. You must forgive yourself for any past mistakes and failures that you cannot forget.

If we choose to hold onto the past and cling to hurt, anger, or whatever, He can't set us free of it. He won't take those things by force.

I don’t want God's forgiveness. And He’s not getting mine.~Harry Silver

Trust becomes the only road home, back to love.

There is a mathematics to all his relationships, underlying each and every one. He wants it to all add up in his head and he wants to do the adding. And should someone step outside his ciphers, the circle his mind has drawn, his trust evaporates.

Trust is crazy. You are a risky, risky, God. I didn’t sign up to be Amazing Trust Boy, and I did not sign up for Danger God. You’re flatly not safe…

The Adversary, of course, simply wants them to lay down their sins, guilt and all, and follow Him. But this type holds on to their sinfulness and their guilt for it, because otherwise, they’d have no relationship with Him at all. And, of course, no relationship can be based on guilt and survive.

The sorry religious novel comes about when the writer supposes that because of his belief, he is somehow dispensed from the obligation to penetrate concrete reality. He will think that the eyes of the Church or of the Bible or of his particular theology have already done the seeing for him, and that his business is to rearrange this essential vision into satisfying patterns, getting himself as little dirty in the process as possible.

I believe that all things happen under the watchful eye of God and the lessons we learn along the way only serve to make us stronger.

You have always known they exist. Everyone feels their presence. Few know the truth. The world of Real Immortals is about to be revealed!

Maybe that was the best part. The beautiful peace that came with living her own story, knowing every turn of the page and tug of the heart was a new beginning.

Properly understood, Imagination and Prayer are directly proportional —the more they pray beyond their bounds, they expand their vision beyond their resources, their experiences, their expectations.

When some one mortal yet eternal human merely being relying on precisely nothing but the audacious love of his Maker, calls on Him to part the Heavens, well, we are undone.

That’s where thinking started, where thinking stopped, where all her prayers so long ago had dried up. She no longer prayed, nor even dreamed of changing her father. Her dreams now played variations on the theme of escape. And they were nothing more than that —just dreams, just play. She’d been alone at the end of her dreams so many times before and never had God helped her escape her father, because God couldn’t, because she would never escape her need to love him.

True Prayer is the work of relationship, where He moves them from mere information about Him to a one-on-one experience with Him, so that now when they talk about “knowing God,” they mean more than, “I understand what you’re saying about God,” but also, “It fits my experience of Him.

When young, the humans are all Imagination because Memory is so much smaller a part of their experience, so little of them is grounded in it. As they grow older, however, Memory overtakes their Imagination, outweighs it. But when they pray with ever increasing confidence, they see with an ever-increasing and youthful Imagination and such burgeoning of possibility causes even their Memory to be lightened and redeemed. The scales fall from their eyes and they wait on their Father with the same chi

All this has been happening around them all the days of their lives though they couldn’t see it, then one day, Prayer removes the veil and everything changes. Think of it this way: Picture a man whistling a tune, when out of nowhere, first a harmony joins, then another, and then suddenly he is taken up into a whirlwind of music, countless instruments playing soaring complexities that the man’s whistling is, indeed, a part of, but now he begins to see how small a part; the longer he listens, he r

Somebody’d better pray for him, don’t you think? He IS a lost soul.~Pastor John Linton

Even then his thoughts did not turn to prayer but to Abbie and to what she would think about his lack of prayerfulness and that surely she would have immediately broken out in prayer. “Doesn’t matter now,” he whispered and felt that he could not cry out to God.~William Drexler the Third

But here I’d like to add to what the Tempter’s Manual suggests. Depression, at its finest, is not a Future that they cannot hopefully construct, nor a shamed Past that hounds them, but an agonizing Present that they cannot escape. We want to disable their Present so that they cannot use it to look Heavenward.

Somehow they fail to see that for someone aggravated by depression, self-help will be useless, indeed, it is precisely the self that needs to be forgotten.

They scold their own hearts but it actuates no real change, only deepens the wound. But they can’t look away from it. Thus, by paralyzing their Present, we beat The Adversary on His home turf. And loop after loop, the depressed haunt and harrow themselves, sometimes for years, when they have only, for a brief moment, to look away from themselves, to look up.

Pain, sorrow, anger, these are all powerful emotions. Allowed to rule and left unchecked, they would destroy you. However, through training and willpower you can choose to harness those feelings and use them for something great.

Tal was looking at Hank when he said, "Just a moment. I want to hear it one more time."As they watched, Bernice found her way to Hank and Mary. She began to week openly, and spoke some quiet but impassioned words to them. Hank and Mary listened, as did the others nearby, and as they listened, they began to smile. They put their arms around her, they told her about Jesus, and then they began to weep as well. Finally, as the saints were gathered and Bernice was surrounded with loving arms, Hank sa

It had been a long fifteen years. So much had changed in both their lives. Both hearts somehow sadly hardened. “Let us just make it through,” Claire whispered her desperate plea. It was her only prayer, one she said over and over again. An almost cynical laugh erupted out of her as she turned one last time to say goodbye to her father’s tombstone. That was her prayer? That was all she could come up with to say to God? Then so be it.

They think that if they had more belief they would pray more, so keep them lacking. Never let them realize that the opposite is true: If they prayed more, they would have more belief.

Joy is that paradox where a man so trusts, is so enraptured, as to be caught up and lost in the other, while at the same time, being utterly known by the other, thus utterly himself.

In Joy, to lose one’s life is to gain it, and Joy never loses an opportunity to be lost in the other.

Without God, reality is madness. Reason will tell you so. You either madly trust in God, or you trust in a world gone mad without him.

When sex was something godlike, Lust was the profane curiosity that killed many a straying cat. Now, having removed mystery, Lust is less a long-standing, overpowering yearning, more a sudden craving of the appetite. Less quest, more impulse buy.

Why could he not have chosen some other woman? Why Avelina? But he knew why. It was because she had seemed good and kind and had expressed her thoughts without any false pride or pretense. He had admired her forthrightness and her compassion. And although he had never thought of a wife with strong opinions was a good thing, he actually found he liked her opinions-or at least admired her for having them. He wanted to get to know her, to know everything that was in her heart. He wanted to marry he

Is it possible to love someone so completely, so intensely, they could never die? To give them more than just your heart or your soul? What if you could give then the miracle of immortality?

If we blind them to The Adversary —decrease their desire for The Desire— while at the same time encourage them to do anything else they desire with increasing “freedom of choice,” then eventually we snuff out desire while leaving demand in tact.

They think that if they were allowed to do anything they desired, they would be satisfied and the more desires the better. But all desires divorced from The Desire eventually collapse in on themselves.

If God’s suggesting that I am expected to do good and also obligated to manufacture a genuine desire for it, this boat’s sunk, still sitting on the trailer in the driveway. A stack of things need to happen before I desire to be good…

The sun appeared over the hillside. "I'm tired, Tom.""It's okay to go home,' he choked. "Hold my hand?"His arms tightened around her and his fingers interlaced with hers. She closed her eyes against the brightness. "I love you.""I love you too," he whispered. Jennifer died feeling the warmth of the rising sun

You don’t change the world by telling it what to do, sitting at home, and telling it what you believe. You believe by throwing yourself into it. Making a leap, getting involved, then waiting, taking some one person’s place for a while, one suffering person at a time.

Your suffering only matters if it connects you to the suffering of others, if it heals them too.

And keep them thinking in terms of 'being good' as this is not an end so much as a means to something else —happiness, respect, self-esteem, etc… And whatever their true end is, take it away, and so goes their goodness.

Indeed, if their wristbands asked them the question: “What-Would-Jesus-Buy”—well now, that could very well revolutionize the Christian church in America.

It was William who would climb out of his carriage unafraid and help a farmer drive a herd of cattle or sheep across a road when necessary.

Press them continually with memory and dream and have them waste their Present there.

It was like magic, but so much of magic is about misdirection, whereas so much of redemption is straightforward and ordinary, piercing true and lit with surprise.

You know, sometimes love can be staring you right in the face, and you can be too blind to see it.

She might not be as hard-hitting as Tzivia, but she had a depth of sincerity and gentleness that he appreciated. Needed. She cared about people. In the war of life, she was the medic and he the guy on the front lines fighting.

He might not like that she'd dated the guy one, but he didn't want him dead. Most of the time.

The amazing, whole, overwhelming, abundant life is found, oddly, by letting go. By living a dangerous faith--the kind of faith that believes in a God who knows our hearts and loves us enough to take our breath away.

Grace runs downhill and now all his time is being redeemed.

She thought of the Good Shepherd with His sheep. Of the Man hanging upon the cross. And the understanding bubbled up within her soul: He makes all things new.

We've peered into the deepest parts to see beyond what lies on the surface.

We had given in to our vulnerability and cast down any pretenses that we were too strong to be weak.

You can't let your light die out. Yours is the only light on my dark path. Without it, I will be forever lost.

Loving someone wasn't about their perfection. It was about coming to accept every part of them, their good qualities at their weaknesses and flaws--looking on everything they were and loving it all.As she looked on everything Jake was, right down to his center, she loved him.

He wanted desperately to stay, just a little while longer. But he couldn't be here, in this place, with her. It was calm here. She was innocent and beautiful and perfect. He was not. He didn't want his mess or his mental illness or his past anywhere near her. He wanted to protect her from a lot of things, but most of all from himself.

He'd sacrifice even his sanity for her. If it came down to it, he'd let her break his heart.Because he loved her.

Hiding had been effortless in New York City. Getting lost in a sea of people was as easy as stepping onto a crowded Subway car. Sweet Laurel Cove would be very different. Generations of families filled its church pews, ran its farms, and schooled its children. Anonymity was as rare as lightning bugs in wintertime—as her grandmother would say.

His eyes settled due west and gazed through the silhouetted, leaf-bare branches to the now-black rolling hills of the mountains he called home. The sun was setting on another day in Laurel Cove, though he couldn’t help but wonder what was rising on the horizon.

I'm sixteen with what I hope will be a long life ahead, but I'm willing to give it up, to give anything to let her live, to let her make it through the night.

Turning an experience about to observe it, results in a lessening of the experience directly proportional to the amount of observation. To think about it is, to some degree, to stop the pleasure, to stop the experience, to step outside it.

When everything all in a moment comes together, surprisingly perfect, it doesn’t prove there’s a loving God; but if there is, isn’t it perfect when all in a moment, God proves how surprisingly He loves?

Why couldn't she have given him a sultry laugh as she'd seen women do in movies instead of giggling like some enchanted, mindless school girl?

The Americans’ great wealth (and their great love for it) makes it precisely the appropriate metaphor. Supply and Demand as a principle has permeated their minds. As a practice, it stains all the way down to their souls.

In every human act of charity, something larger, greater, divine has come down to visit the act.

We think we are so strong but it is only when others try to prey on our weaknesses that we realize how frail we truly are.”-Skyla (from Twiceborn)

They forget that for a Creator to create, He must be greater than His creation, thus He must be by definition not less than emotional.

Truth, with a capital T, was swapped for Fact with a capital F, then both lower-cased —facts the new trues.

I can almost feel the wind beneath my wings I can almost taste the thrill of flying away from this small town and never looking back.

Faith is where they learn about their God but Prayer is where they explore Him.

Lying is second nature and I do it very well. Titus Ray, Chapter 5

Remember, this type doesn’t really believe He’ll forgive them, by repenting they are trying to earn what they do not think, in any case, He will pay.

Between the sands of time is a multitude of truths untold.

the drama below and the drama above could easily collide at any moment

St John from the book of The Revelation “He also forced everyone, small and great, rich and poor, free and slave, to receive a mark on his right hand or on his forehead, so that no one could buy or sell unless he had the mark.

Kindness is not something you are born with it's a way in which you choose to be.