I had a dream about you. Too many people died that day for us to talk about love. But through the stench of rotting corpses all I could think about was how beautiful you were and how much I wanted to avoid prison.

Near my feet is a glowing archway. The light is white and shimmery like iridescent glitter and its so tall the top nearly brushes the ceiling. Inside instead of seeing the cement wall of the basement Im looking at evenly spaced wooden pillars and a reed-mat floor. Standing on that mat is a woman with curves that would make a Playboy model jealous. Shes wearing a long butter yellow dress and her white hair hangs down to her waist. She looks like an angel when she smiles at me holding out her hands.Hudson come with me. Her voice reminds me of the breeze rustling through the trees near the lake. Soft and subtle and calming. Let me help you.Did I die Maybe the scratch on my side got infected. Maybe Ive been slowly bleeding to death from internal injuries for the past week. Who knows If this is death if shes whats waiting for me on the other side then fuck it. Im letting go.

Who told these people with dreams goals and ambitions they could take time off

In order to resist fear and discouragement it is necessary that through prayer - through a personal experience of God re-encountered recognized and loved in prayer - we taste and see how good the Lord is Psalm 34.

My usual instruction to students when they are preparing to write their examinations is think before you answer the questions. I am convinced that some multiple choice answers could be so close that you might not know the very one that answers the question correctly Such is life. To choose your suitable dreams you must think well

Jesus kept it simple. The lesson wasnt complicated. I speak you believe My word your son will be fine. We complicate what God has made simple by seeing the world through human eyes. We want to see in order to believe and presume that our limitations are His.

...I believe in dreams more than I believe in God. Dreams get into you and leave then come back with new fruit but God is just a vast desert.

Spiritual work is taxing work and men are loath to do it. Praying true praying costs an outlay of serious attention and of time which flesh and blood do not relish.

Some like to sleep. Some like to read late into the night without catching a wink. In a world of dreamers both are essential.

One of the critical factors that make peoples dreams become nightmares is that they dont know there is a cost to be paid