Craig D. Lounsbrough

Easter is the invulnerable tale of utter selflessness where at an inestimable cost God did for us what He did not need done for Himself. And that kind of __oing_ happens every day.

Easter says that every ending ever experienced by man is exquisitely crafted to find its own ending at the feet of a fresh beginning.

If you want to completely destroy a child, all you have to do is mold them into your vision of what you want them to be. If you want to completely liberate a child, all you have to do is grow them into the person they were created to be. The former cannot see God in the child. The latter can see nothing less.

With God, the word __mpossible_ is itself impossible.

There__ not much that I can find in places where there is nothing to find. However, to avoid facing God I find myself spending a lot of time in those very places.

To ascend the mountain, we must descend to our knees.

If I were to sit down and count them, how many of my prayers were tainted by the seduction of greed? None, simply because nothing of that sort is a prayer.

Greatness untethered from God results in calamity unrestrained by men.

In one way or another, every mission that I have ever set out on to rescue myself is yet another mission that I end up needing to be rescued from. Hence, there is God.

Sooner or later I will be faced with the fact that the world is helpless to meet my needs. And at that point, I will be left with two conclusions; that life is cruel or God is real.

Our prayers are something akin to delivering a list, verses surrendering a life. The former will always leave me creating the next list, while the latter will leave me creating a new life.

Maybe what I need to be rescued from is the feeling that I don__ need to be rescued, for without a doubt this is the most difficult rescue of all.

A father teaches his children that the battle is not determined by the enemy that stands around them, but by the God Who stands within them. And that lesson can only be driven home as they watch their father stand around them, while God stands within their father.

If I choose to take the pen from God and write the story of my life without Him, I better have plenty of erasers and a whole lot of white-out. Better yet, I should invest in a good shredder.

Raw power without Godly obedience is a long walk off a short conscience.

Suddenly finding myself imprisoned in the ruins of the fortresses I created, I realize that that which I built to protect me has now become a labyrinth that is set to destroy me. And laying spent in the rubble, I finally realize that there is only one fortress and I cannot create it because there is only one God.

If the light we have is continually engulfed by the darkness in a way that makes the darkness even darker, maybe we should think about getting our light from Someone else before it gets a whole lot darker.

The best I can do is to __retend_ that I__ my own god. But in the pretending I have to pretend that I__ not pretending, and somehow that doesn__ sound very god-like to me.