Best 15127 quotes in «god quotes» category

I prayed, but the words fell to the ground meaning nothing.

I prayed to what all things hold in common. I prayed to what makes life. I thought about the elements of the universe, the rocks, the stars, the air, other living things. I tried to get the perspective of what's behind all that. I prayed to the force that brings things into existence. I thought this force encompassed all it created. My God was transcendent, and my God was also immanent. God ran in my veins. God lived and died and lived again in every atom of the universe.

I put back my head, looking up at the deep black sky swimming with hot stars. If you knew they were really balls of flaming gas, you could imagine them as Van Gogh saw them, without difficulty . . . and looking into that illuminated void, you understood why people have always looked up into the sky when talking to God. You need to feel the immensity of something very much bigger than yourself, and there it is - immeasurably vast, and always near at hand. Covering you.

I raised my hand and asked if God was a spirit. And he said yes, He was. So I asked if it was right that a spirit was different from a person because it didn't have a body, wasn't material. And when he agreed, I asked how, if God was a spirit, He could be a man, if He didn't have a body or anything.

I pray God it is the answer I want, but if not I will accept any answer at all and try to be grateful for what I had.

I put my trust in the Living God.

I promise if you come to my car I won't cuff you unless..." his voice dropped in a sensuous tone, "...that's what you want.

I realized there really is a natural interplay between my spirituality and my creativity. When I enter into a spirit of prayer, I can cultivate a receptive space and actually ask God for creative ideas that will enhance my my praying. Then these creative practices allow me to enter into the spiritual space even more quickly and deeply. The result is a spiraling effect leading to ever-expanding dimensions, encompassing both deeper spirituality and heightened creativity.

I recovered from every shock of life's despair because God was merciful enough to restore me .

I reckon if there’s ere a man or woman anywhere that He could turn it all over to and go away with His mind at rest, it would be Cora. And I reckon she would make a few changes, no matter how He was running it. And I reckon they would be for man’s good. Leastways, we would have to like them. Leastways, we might as well go on and make like we did.

I regard myself as the most wretched of all men, stinking and covered with sores, and as one who has committed all sorts of crimes against his King. Overcome by remorse, I confess all my wickedness to Him, ask His pardon and abandon myself entirely to Him to do with as He will. But this King, filled with goodness and mercy, far from chastising me, lovingly embraces me, makes me eat at His table, serves me with His own hands, gives me the keys of His treasures and treats me as His favorite. He talks with me and is delighted with me in a thousand and one ways; He forgives me and relieves me of my principle bad habits without talking about them; I beg Him to make me according to His heart and always the more weak and despicable I see myself to be, the more beloved I am of God.

I remembered Robyn telling me the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, and how they'd survived: when the King chucked them in the furnace and an angel or someone went in with them. The furnace blazed all around them but they didn't burn. And it did calm me. I don't know if it was Robyn or an angel or even God himself was in the boot, but I was starting to suspect that whenever I wanted God, he was there. Only not necessarily in the form I wanted, or doing what I wanted...In the pitch of the black boot I clung to the image of a fiery furnace, and it wasn't the furnace or Hell either.

I read the bible every day and the one thing I have noticed is that those characters that are closest to God seem to be the ones who question and wonder and think more than others.

Irony of life – GOD will always make you do things which you never want to.

I revere the word of God for I love its poetic force. I loathe the word of God for I hate its cruelty. The love is a difficult love for it must incessantly separate the luminosity of the words and the violent verbal subjugation by a complacent God. The hatred is a difficult hatred for how can you allow yourself to hate words that are part of the melody of life in this part of the world? Words that taught us early on what reverence is?

Irresponsibility is a sin with a high price tag.

Irresistible are your words like a spell. Impenetrable is my spirit like a shield.

Irrespective of where you are, where you were born, what you can do or cannot do, irrespective of your starting capital in life, you can raise your value so high that you are needed for the most important jobs.

Is anything too hard for the Lord? (Genesis 18:14)

I see them and they see me but the lovers — we recognise one another: there is light in our eyes.

I saw under the sun the place of judgement, …that wickedness was there; And the place of righteousness, that iniquity was there. …I said in mine heart, 'Who shall judge the righteous and the wicked:' for there is a time for every purpose and for every work.

I see him as a god from elsewhere who has lost his way . . .

I see in Jesus not only the supreme act of humility in God, but the supreme act of humanity in God.

I see God in everyone, until they bring out the devil inside of them.

I saw my real gods . . the gods of most men. Food, drink, and security in conformity.

I said ‘Periods are God’s way of being mean to men’ and she replied ‘Periods are God’s way of giving women a break from men’.

Is apathy not the nature of God?

I say it must have been great to grow up when men were men. He says men have always been what the are now, namely incapable of coping with life without the intervention of God the Almighty. Then in the oven behind him my pizza starts smoking and he says case in point.

I sat alone in that stupid forest asking God to tell me what to do.

I sat and asked God a question, never before now had I felt he was truly listening; Or was it i, that disrupted his appearance... Why God, must the treasures of our world be hard done by and the enemies of life become greater in their scheme of manipulation? Oh dear one, I chose the strong ones to hand the deepest lessons, because I know they can handle it and soon enough they will too. The ones that twiddle their thumbs and become ignorant to what's their truth; will attract what they are and continue in the circle of vicious greed. They'll eventually grow, like you did too. It may just take time, and your time now is bettering your existence from the struggle you've faced.

I regard the afterlife to be a fairy story for people that are afraid of the dark

I remember it taking place. They were dangerous back then. We were shut up, stopped in every way, detained by their power. They could just say one word and we had to leave! It was a horrible time for our kind." "What happened?" I ask, my strength slowly returning. "Well, when their leader left, years went by and a new normal set in, it became easier to get a hold on people. We came out of hiding. This, this right here is a great time for us. There are so many avenues and outlets for us to use!

I remember sitting and meditating beside a slow flowing river in India, and I got the feeling that this river could teach me all the secrets of the mystery of life. If we learn to surrender to a stone, a flower, to a man, to a woman, or a river, it becomes a door to the Whole.

Is it not lack of faith that leads men to fear the scrutiny of reason? If the destination is doubtful, than the path must be fraught with fear. A robust faith need not fear, for if God exists, then reason cannot help but lead us to Him. Cogito, ergo Deus est,'says St. Augustine, I think, therefore God is.

[..] I sensed it was finally safe to ask the question without seeming like an ingrate. God? Where were you? For 107 days where were you? Where were you in my unconsciousness and where were you in that hospital room when I wanted to feel your presence with fireworks and explosions of emotions and supernatural palpability? Where were you, God? [...] I was there, my child, [...] I was the peace, I was the breath, I was the comfort.

Is everything forbidden us except to fold our arms? Poverty is not written in the stars; under development is not one of God's mysterious designs.

I shall not be afraid of a calamity. God is my defender.

I shall not repent of my faith.

Is it not funny, in the presence of an unlimited God, we will still be stucked? Sometimes faith overwrites the fact, that some people have not come to realise. Stop giving excuses and telling God what is happening around you. You have the tools.

Is it not the same distance to God everywhere?

Is it possible that the reason you feel as if God doesn't see you or your problems or care about your stress is because you are focused on you, instead of God?

Is it possible we love and rely on food more than we love and rely on God?

Is it too bold to point out that there is nothing in the ten commandments about protecting children against cruelty? Nothing against rape and nothing against slavery, and nothing agains genocide. Could this be because these crimes are positively recommended in the rest of the bible?

I shall tell you about God once you've reached your imaginary heaven. Then, give me a call.

I shall treat the nature and power of the Affects, and the power of the Mind over them, by the same Method by which, in the preceding parts, I treated God and the Mind, and I shall consider human actions and appetites just as if it were a Question of lines, planes, and bodies.

I sense a learning: that much dumber people than you end up in charge. Look at the way things are. I'm no fucken genius or anything, but these spazzos are in charge of my every twitch. What I'm starting to think is maybe only the dumb are safe in this world, the ones who roam with the herd, without thinking about every little thing. But see me? I have to think about every little fucken thing.

Is it not shameful to accept God's blessings as though they were our due without thinking of the heart of the Giver, who planned them all in love for us, and giving Him the response of love and gratitude?

I sit and ponder my existence: how I'm here, what put me here in these thoughts, these feelings, birthed from a timeless sleep, what it felt like, or rather the lack thereof, to not have been and now to 'be', and suddenly, I realize how absurd I am to exist, the fragility in my understanding of existence; I then wonder why the supernatural, the thought of other beings, of God or of gods, must be distinctly absurd - by which I am no longer sure. 'If I exist and I have made myself absurd to me, then why not they exist while merely believed absurd by me?' Perhaps it is true that in a wandering head, one full of wonders, the natural becomes supernatural and the supernatural becomes preternatural (or rational within the sights of discovery and explanation), just as the return home after a life-long journey feels, for a moment, foreign after the many experiences.

Is it a time for you, you I say, to dwell in your roofed-in houses?' (Haggai 1:4). The reply might have been that it was unreasonable to expect anyone to live in a roofless house, but the question made its point. What worth did they set on their God, when they left His Temple in ruins?

I shouldn’t complain about God’s mercy to others while thanking Him for His mercy to me. I shouldn’t commit the sin of pride by justifying my rebellion or my running from God compared to other people’s sin. Who am I to be angry at what the angels in Heaven rejoice in?