Craig D. Lounsbrough Quotes - Page 2

Easter is a time where we are reminded that conclusions in man's mind are beginnings in God's plan.

Risk is the stuff that sucks the predictability right out of the very things that we desperately wish were predictable.

The worst defeat of all is to surrender without having been defeated. And it is Christmas that obliterates both.

Vulnerability creates unimaginable space to build each other up, as much as it creates ample room to tear each other down.

Yet, there is a sense of some deep sort that runs entirely contrary to human nature; that in putting ourselves first, we must by necessity put others first.

Maybe consequences are dear friends in stealthy disguise.

Despite how utterly massive they might be, it is never the size of the arsenal nor the strength of the warrior. Rather, it is a heart bent on sacrifice that is the most potent weapon of all.

Yet, there is a sense of some deep sort that runs entirely contrary to human nature, that in putting ourselves first, we must by necessity put others first.

The greatest dividends in life are those that we give away.

To maximize our lives we think that we should get up and join in the race. Yet, we rarely consider that maybe it’s less about joining a race and more about actually creating one.

Maybe we ought to consider that sometimes the most destructive outcomes in our lives are the ones that we’ve created.

Although it pains me to admit it, I am quite familiar with the holes in life. And this familiarity is due to the fact that I spend far more time in these holes than I spend on the paths that brought me to them.

If left to my own simplistic devices and the sorely scant limits of my abilities, would I not die a death of the blandest sort imaginable? And should I not thank God that He graciously gifted me with an imagination that renders such a death entirely unimaginable?

The voice incessantly quelled in the chorus of human voices will always be the voice of God. And given a reality of this magnitude, I would be well advised to cease my babbling and encourage those around me to do the same.

The ‘deep pause’ needed to cultivate wonder is far too often back-filled with an incessant busyness, as busyness errantly presumes a ‘deep pause’ to be deeply wasteful.

My sin murdered Him. And out of this self-loathing shame borne of the understanding that I could perpetrate such a heinous act, I am barely able to raise my head sufficiently to ask what crazed insanity would prompt Jesus to walk out of an empty tomb for the single purpose of pursuing a decaying soul that murdered Him? And I would be wise to consider that the question itself is asked only because I have yet to touch the barest periphery of God’s love despite the fact that because of an empty tomb it stands right in front of me.

Our best-laid plans are often our worst-made decisions.

When will I realize that without God my world is draped in shadows between which there is not a single ray of light? And when will I recognize that with God, my world is deluged in light between which there is not a single thread of darkness?

To build refuges of my own making is to construct fortresses of sand at ocean’s edge, where the relentless tides of time will leave my most magnificently constructed walls as perfectly flat sand. And now that I am subject to the very tides that destroyed these walls of mine, I am left with the reality that my single and sole refuge can only be the God who created both tides and sand.

All along, I was less concerned about walking a path of integrity and more caught up in a compass calibrated by greed. And with a compass such as this, how is it that I’m having a hard time understanding why I am where I am?

It’s about recognizing that the great movements and moments in history laid on the backs of ordinary people who simply chose to do extraordinary things.

If there’s any redeeming quality that I can find in running away from something, it’s that I’m on my feet. Now all I’ve got to do is alter my direction.

It’s really a rather simple thing to bring balance to my anger. All I need to do is remember that the ‘hand of cards’ that have been dealt to me pale in comparison to the ‘deck of cards’ that I’ve thrown at others.

Without an imagination we would be irreparably shackled to what is, and never be released to what could be.

The presence of a path doesn’t necessarily mean the existence of a destination.

Judging others is too often escapism dressed in the garb of righteous indignation, whereby I dutifully point out in others that which I probably should be pointing out in myself.

If I were to be brutally honest with myself, how often is my journey actually a path designed to circumvent my journey?

Due north’ on my compass is largely ‘due’ to the fact that in ‘due’ time I have been ‘unduly’ lax in recalibrating my compass. And I’m apparently ignorant enough to wonder why I’m lost.

Whatever the item is that I have chosen to give you, it is nothing more than the receptacle within which I have placed the whole of myself. If it is empty, it is not a gift.

To attempt to know myself ‘apart’ from God is to choose to know nothing more than ‘a part’ of myself.

In the end, if we don't have God we don't have anything other than an end.

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

My limitations abruptly define the frighteningly negligible extent of my existence, yet my soul utterly perishes if bound by those very same limits. And does this not somehow evidence both the reality of and need for God?

I spend my life constantly calling in ‘imaginary’ debts that aren’t owed to me in order to avoid the ‘real’ debts that I owe to others, and so everybody ends up bankrupt.

I don’t necessarily sit around inviting life to knock me down, but when it does I don’t wait around for an invitation to stand back up either.

It’s not so much about writing the story of Christmas itself, as ingenious as it is. In reality, it’s much more about writing the story of Christmas into the story of life so that it will become the story of life.

Rarely do I truly understand the disease which ails me. Therefore, rarely do I truly understand the fix that would cure me. And so maybe I should truly contemplate how rarely I recognize that God understands both.

It is in opposing the world’s lies that we impose truth in our hearts.

It’s not a lack of opportunity around me. Rather, it’s a lack of faith within me.

Things becomes invisible at the very moment I refuse to grant them importance. And while I am utterly ashamed to admit it, many of the most important things in my life are invisible.

I am selfish by habit, but sacrificial by nature. Therefore, I’d be wise to develop the habit of following my nature.

Although I am far too frequently convinced otherwise, with God a dead-end is only the death of an end.

While we tediously check our weaponry before entering into battle, do we check our hearts? For without exception, that is the greatest weapon of all.

God’s absence in the carnage is due to one single rather unnerving fact; that at some time past He honored our request that He leave. And if we are not brutally honest with ourselves regarding that choice, it is we ourselves who have set the stage for the next tragedy.

In the deepest darkness God tenderly grasps my hand and whispers that darkness is nothing more than a place that He is preparing for the arrival of light.

I’m not the author of my fears, but I sure feed them really well.

I think myself so terribly ‘clever’ that the need for God is blatantly irrelevant. And all the while, in the rapidly growing mess that I’m ‘cleverly’ creating, I rather quickly begin to realize that the only thing that is relevant is His relevance.

If life is nothing more than a journey to death, autumn makes sense but spring does not.

When I find that stubbornness continually overrides common sense regardless of the logic of my argument, it seems that the only effective solution is to tell them to go ahead and stick their finger in the socket. And what I find is that what my argument failed to solve, electricity does quite nicely.

Ignorance is avoiding that which stands in front of me out of the misplaced hope that it will put what I’m ignoring behind me. Instead, it’s most certain to drop it on top of me.

We ask, ‘Why the need for God?’ Maybe the better question is ‘Why the need not to need Him?’ And could it be that that question in fact evidences our need for Him?

The road ahead is not some predetermined path that I am forced to trod, but it is a rich byway that I can help create.

It is in building the best of our abilities that we ultimately destroy the worst of our liabilities.

What is fear but that ‘thing’ that we believed to be as powerful as it pretended to be.

Most of the things we deem as impossible are only impossible because we’ve given them permission to be impossible.

Hate feeds on itself, while love will always find itself fed.

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.

We know enough to know that all of this is not quite right. And we know enough to know that settling for what’s not quite right is quite wrong.

To abandon the child ‘within’ means that the adult ‘without’ will be an adult in name only. And frankly, I can only name a handful of things that are that tragic.

To simply survive appears to be the choice of the plodding hoards that wander all around me. Therefore, I’ve adamantly committed to never hoard hoards.