These stories brought to light the realities of the Green: these people were fighting against sexual assault, police brutality, and social stigma associated with mental health--issues that we Yalies tout ourselves for championing.
But if I stop loving, if I stop letting the spirit of God move in me, am I still me?
For the lives lost in First Baptist Church in Sutherland Springs, I promise that wherever I am, you are there. The news has not released your names yet, but I promise that I will not fear walking through that church door and finding my spot in the pew, because you weren’t.
Finally, when you walk across the aisle to lay hold of your diploma, you will know without a doubt that God’s faithfulness followed you all the way there.
In death, there is no turning back, no last minute good deed, no “winging-it.”
My scar is weakness sewn back together with Something much stronger: a Something that lets me laugh in the face of the anxieties we create for ourselves, a Something that is home no matter where I am, a Something that lets me look in the mirror and see the strength of the Rocky Mountains stand in perfection atop someone very weak, but very much at peace.
As a dancer, you must ask yourself: How can I make His choreography, the ultimate choreography, my own, while still sticking to the Creator’s true intent?
You could easily be reading something else. Listening to something else. Watching something else. But, with no one other than God to thank, you aren’t.
What is God's purpose for romance?
Where is God in our hearts when the nitrogen of self-reliance creeps to poison? Where is the Cross when we try to atone for our errors and earn praise from ourselves and others? Christ’s merits are forgotten in that daze, under the push and pull of those waters we face, and we take for granted His permanence. There is danger in the beauty of this place.