Best 18 quotes of Jeff Goins on MyQuotes

At a distance, we see a need and ignore it. We judge it, condemn it, forget it. We don't think about it, because if we practice ignorance long enough, we don't notice the need anymore. It goes underground, and we're content with the surface of life as we know it - unwilling to break deeper ground. If all appears to be well on the outside, that is good enough for our consciences. ...If we are willing to dig deep, to find Calcutta in our own backyards, we will find the poor. But we will also find God. And He may just open our eyes, so that we can see the need and not soon forget. So that we can hear their cries and not grow deaf. So that we can smell the stench of human need and awaken our hearts to compassion.

Did you know the average age of a gamer is thirty-two? Now, I don't see anything inherently wrong with diversion and games, but that is certainly telling about our culture, isn't it? Instead of raising families or creating culture, we are sitting around in our living rooms with our eyes glued to the television, simulating life. We are escapists, cowards, and thieves. We hide, occasionally stealing crumbs from the table of those living the good life. We are avoiding the truth that screams at us from the stillness: 'There is more. You are more than this.' So we anesthetize the truth with busyness. Maybe if we just do more, this feeling of emptiness will go away. And we won't actually have to do any real work.

If we are to follow the Jesus who suffered with us and bled for us, we too must suffer. We must hold the dying in our arms. We must shed tears for hungry stomachs, trafficked children, and wandering souls. This is what He wants for us. It's the reason we are called to lay down our nets and take up our crosses to pursue the Suffering Servant. And it's the one thing we will avoid at all costs. It is not enough to feel bad. Religion to me, has always been the routine of feeling guilty for all the things we should do but don't. We must act. This is where life happens, where we begin to participate in our stories. This is when we awaken. Not on the sidelines; not on the outside looking in. Life is lived right in the midst of all this mess. Incidentally, that's where mercy and the miraculous are found. That's where flowers begin to grow again.

If you are going to find work worth doing - a vocation to fulfill and challenge you - you will have to encounter a reality bigger than yourself. It may not be what others say it should be or what you think, but it will come if you are looking for it... At times, the work you're called to do will be hard and confusing, but if you press in, you will see the purpose behind the pain. You will see how the whole experience is causing you to grow. And you will thank God for the whole journey.

If you don't acquire the discipline to push through a personal low point, you will miss the reward that comes with persevering.

If you're going to fall out of love with public approval, something interesting will happen: people will be deeply attracted to your work.

If you're "one in a million", and the world is full of seven billion people, that means there are seven thousand people just like you.

If you're trying to serve someone in need and it doesn't hurt a little, you're doing something wrong. Sure, it's nice to lend a helping hand, but true compassion causes your heart to break - even at the moment you're helping... When people say the only reason to help the less fortunate is so you can feel better about yourself, I laugh. Those people obviously have never lived among the poor, the destitute, the heartbroken. They have never put themselves out there and truly suffered with someone in pain. This idea that philanthropy is self-medication is not true; in fact, it's so outrageous that it's laughable. If you're really helping someone in pain - if you're really experiencing compassion - you can't help but hurt too. This is the litmus test for those aspiring to make a difference in others' lives: Do we feel cheery about the work we're doing, or does it hurt a little, maybe even a lot? If the latter, you're on the right track.

Struggle shapes our character. And character dictates what we will become.

The world is broken and remains that way, in spite of our efforts to help it. This is beautiful, in a way, because it breaks us of our self-dependency. In a world that refuses to be healed, we must face the fact that we are not the heroes of our stories. It teaches us to rely on something bigger than ourselves and teaches the source of true compassion.

This is the secret to mastering any discipline: as you conquer one, you'll find it easier to tackle another.

To be wrecked begins with an experience that pulls you out of your comfort zone and self-centeredness, whether you want it or not.

...we find our vocations not by focusing on ourselves, but by focusing on others.

We live in the age of no excuses.

We must wake up. If we are going to find our callings, we must live intentionally and audaciously. And we must be generous. This choice is not an easy one, and it doesn't come naturally, but it's how we were meant to live. It's the only way - I'm quite convinced of this - that we can find the satisfaction we've been searching for, the lives we've been dreaming of. And although there are legitimate health, business, and psychological benefits to generous living, the most important one is this: generosity gives your life meaning.

We who are rich with respect to the rest of the world must come to grips with our own poverty if we are going to make a difference. We must allow our hearts to be broken so we can make things whole once again. We must fall apart before we can build up. Anything else is not compassion. It may raise money or impress the neighbors, but it won't satisfy.

We who were born into privilege and opportunity were given these gifts with an expectation: to give them away.

What does it mean to be a "real artist"? It means you are spending your time doing the things that matter most to you. It means you don't need someone else's permission to create.