the birds are composing.

I have heard the gospel a thousand times, in a thousand forms. No matter, preach it to me again. I hunger, I tire, I sigh. Preach it to me again; it is my food, it is my rest, it is my sweet embrace. Preach it to me again, will you have me starve by the lack of it? Tell me of my sin, I beg, tell me of the Son. Tell me of our Fountainhead; tell me what He’s done.

Don’t bother too much about your feelings. When they are humble, loving, brave, give thanks for them; when they are conceited, selfish, cowardly, ask to have them altered. In neither case are they you, but only a thing that happens to you. What matters is your intentions and your behavior

Christ says: I know you through and through – I know everything about you. The very hairs of your head I have numbered. Nothing in your life is unimportant to me, I have followed you through the years, and I have always loved you – even in your wanderings. I know every one of your problems. I know your needs and your worries. And yes, I know all your sins. But I tell you again that I love you – not for what you have or haven’t done – I love you for you, for the beauty and dignity my Father gave you by creating you in his own image.

Those who do not move do not notice their chains.