I believe God spoke to you at cliffs. Her hand came to rest on the top of my head. But perhaps you weren't truly listening

Does your love reach this far, God? And if it extends to heaven and beyond… why can’t it seem to find me?

To truly try means to accept God's love, his healing, to accept the world can be ugly, but your heart doesn't have to be. It takes courage, Finley the warrior. You haven't held on to your anger and bitterness in search of healing, but as a banner of your hurt. Because it's real and visible and strong, " she said. "But so is God's love and so are those arms he's holding out for you.

Bella,leave the aggressive stuff to me." My heart quirks in my chest. I may not like this guy but that sounded so hot. "Um..." Focus,focus. "What?

Can you tell me what happened?"Her lips thinned as she shook her head. "'Tis not a happy tale.""You have me reading a book about a girl who tries to kill an entire town. Anything else at this point would be a pick me up.

Oh, to be the author of prison letters. It's a young girl's dream come true.

People everywhere, enjoying life, smiling, and just slowing down to let the world take care of itself for a few hours. The feeling was contagious. Especially when I stepped into McPherson's Pub to grab a bite of the special and listen to some traditional Irish music. The fiddle made me want to dance with myself, and many did. The drum beat like my very own heart. And some little flute that looked no wider than a pencil reminded me of the Aran Islands floating not too far from Abbeyglen.God was here tonight. In the strings of the guitar and the call of the singer's voice. I realize how often I overlook him back at home. And I know I don't want to do that anymore.The LORD will send His faithful love by day; His song will be with me in the night a prayer to the Gid of my life.

She just asked me to pick her up some tampons and a Yoo-Hoo." ~Alex Sinclair

Life can be hard in the real world.

He says that it’s okay to be fearful. That some of God’s strongest warriors were frightened. The difference between a believer and the rest of the world is that we press on. We can be shaking in our boots, but we don’t turn back.

My fate is like those envelopes – sealed and tossed aside.

Maybe tell me about those letters. Confession is good for the soul."I expected her to tear into me yet again, but instead she stayed silent for several seconds, running her fingers over the trim of her blanket. "I do belive my soul is past the point of helping.""That's not true. It's never too late."She looked at the town as we walked by, her eyes heavy with fatigue. And an ache so deep, it didn't have a name. I'd seen that look in my own mirror."I gave up that right many years ago," she said. "My fate is like those envelopes-sealed and tossed aside.

You’re a teenager. It’s all complicated.

And now?" came my dad's voice. "Now who am I?" "The man who chose his girlfriend over his family." I turned and looked at my father. "Someone whose words I don't believe.