Benz Love Quotes

You cannot run away from the truth because truth will find you.

You lucky my Benz,wasn't parked at the curb, I got shit in my trunk for bitches like you.

I was in love and my love turned out to be quite mad, and well we know, no candle can compare to fire.

In the distance, a Benz motor sounds. A neon light wraps itself around the driver and the winter that beats in his heart. His heart stays cold. stays melting.

I wanted a monument to myself in granite. I wanted my face in seven different colours. I wanted I LOVE YOU in giant red letters on top of the Museum of Modern Art. I wanted a new bridge across the Hudson in my name. I wanted a three-volume history of the Greeks dedicated to my memory. I wanted a filmed version of my life in Ektachrome Commercial. I wanted the Mercedes-Benz no longer to be for Mercedes. But I have small breasts.

The disease of addiction, for all the pain and damage it causes, is an invitation to see this prodigal God in action. The question is, will we? Will we as the church step out of our comfort zones into uncharted territory that will at times be unpredictable and even scary for us? Or will we, like the older son, gloat, sulk and stomp off in resentment? Would we rather be party poopers or partygoers, estranged children or reconciled ones?

Maiha “Allow me to introduce you to the Children of Mars. On lead guitar and eight barreled Calliope Gatlin, Colonel Fujiyama. On bass and manning the double-barreled thirty millimeter PPC's we have Major Howard. Singing backup and key boards we have Fight Captain Benz with a lovely ten millimeter rapid fire gauss rifle. Her lovely partner Captain Martin on drums with her ten millimeter Hell-bore pulse laser rifle. And singing lead and front man, a true artist with a bang from the Castile sniper rifle, our Big Daddy, Papa of Death and Destruction, the one, the only, the man, the myth, the legend, Lord James Nakatoma- Bailey.” When I finished Alice was giggling out loud.

Benz is short for benzodiazepine. It’s an anti-anxiety and depression med. Small white pills?” “A lovely shade of robin’s-egg blue, actually.” “Huh,” says Charlotte. “So it was a street drug, not a prescription.

No one thinks twice if you date a fugly guy who has a great sense of humor! So if keys to the Benz is your love language, do you!

Addiction recovery is more than a referral to the closest AA group. It is a one-of-a-kind opportunity for a whole community of wayward children to be transformed by the grace of a wildly-in-love-with-you God.

getting an addict into recovery is as much about getting recovery into the church.

The question is not whether you will encounter addicted people, but how you will respond when you encounter them.

where Jesus is, there the church can be also.

If the epidemic of addiction in America is a sobering commentary about the state of our collective soul, the recovery movement bears witness to something else: that the kingdom of the prodigal God is alive and well outside the four walls of the church—proclaiming good news to the poor, setting the captives free and opening the eyes of the blind.4

When addicts are not just the heroin pushers or prescription pill junkies “out there,” but are in our pews and among us, we are in the right position to begin helping addicts step into recovery.

Transformation happens when we see our own crippling brokenness and need for God’s grace in the face and story of the addict in front of us. When addicts are not just the heroin pushers or prescription pill junkies “out there,” but are in our pews and among us, we are in the right position to begin helping addicts step into recovery. And this identification can’t be emphasized enough: my own secret cravings, patterns of self-destructive behavior and unchecked forms of consumption (of money, power, approval—you name it) may not manifest themselves in quite the same way as those of the crack addict in front of me, but they fall within the same realm of human bondage. So getting addicts into recovery means first standing in solidarity with addicts, recognizing that their plight and their stories are hitched to our own and in many ways are similar.

I love the wheels, I mean steering wheel.

I was to inherit them, the legacy unfurling before me this way: you worked from before sunrise to the dead of night. You were never unkind in your dealings, but then you were not generous. Your family was your life, though you rarely saw them. You kept close handsome sums of cash in small denominations. You were steadily cornering the market in self-pride. You drove a Chevy and then a Caddy and then a Benz. You never missed a mortgage payment or a day of church. You prayed furiously until you wept. You considered the only unseen forces to be those of capitalism and the love of Jesus Christ.

I hadn’t come to that world of adulthood with the right intentions—purpose over prosperity, value over quantity, meaning over means. I had wanted to gain the world, not realizing I already had it, lived in it, was a part of it, and it was a part of me. And all I needed was to contribute in a way I loved, in a way I wanted.