Hope is not some thin thing that is subject to the winds of fate, but it is crafted hard by the hands of God.

Once faith dies, the death of hope follows hard on its heels.

Where there is no hope, there is Christmas. And where there is no Christmas, there is no hope.

With God, the impossible is not an obstacle but an invitation.

With God, the fear of failure is slain cold by success that is already hot on the way.

Without a beginning I am pouring the whole of my existence into the building of endings, while the cross and the resurrection declare that God is incessantly building beginnings from the collapse of endings.