Jesus went without comfort so that you might have it. He postponed joy so that you might share in it. He willingly chose isolation so that you might never be alone in your hurt and sorrow. He had no real fellowship so that fellowship might be yours, this moment. This alone is enough cause for great gratitude!

If there was a bright center to the universe, I was on the planet it was farthest from. Please pass the blue milk, Aunt Beru.

All dressed up with nowhere to go. Walking with a dead man over my shoulder. Don't run away, it's only me.…

The next time you feel rejection's sting, remember God's words to Samuel: "It is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me." (1 Sam. 8:7)

Our pain carves out a larger space for love to fill.

I keep thinking of all the people who cast despairing eyes toward the dark heavens and cry "Why?" And I imagine him. I imagine him listening. I picture his eyes misting and a pierced hand brushing away a tear. And although he may offer no answer, although he may solve no dilemma, although the question may freeze painfully in midair, he who also was once alone, understands.

Jesus wept" (John 11:35).

Beloved, can you accept that Christ takes very personally the unfair things that happen to you?

In all their suffering, He suffered, and the Angel of His Presence saved them. Isaiah 63:9

There are thousands of lonely people who carry heavy and difficult burdens of grief, anxiety, pain, and disappointment; but the loneliest of all is one whose life is steeped in sin.

There are many men who are forgotten, who are despised, and who are trampled on by their fellows, but there never was a man who was so despised as the everlasting God has been!

A poet is an unhappy being whose heart it torn by secret sufferings, but whose lips are so strangely formed that when the sighs and the cries escape them, they sound like beautiful music... and then people crowd about the poet and say to him: "Sing for us soon again;" that is as much as to say. "May new sufferings torment your soul."