Messi Inspirational Quotes

But love is complicated, it’s messy. It can inspire selflessness, selfishness, our greatest accomplishments and our hardest mistakes. It brings us together and it can just as easily drive us apart.

This is a love story. Twisted and messy. Flawed and screwed up. But it's ours. It's us. I don't know how our story will end. but I know it will start.

Love is messy. If you really love someone, you can't avoid the pain. People die, people leave, things change, but sometimes it all works

Dear Human: You've got it all wrong. You didn't come here to master unconditional love. This is where you came from and where you'll return. You came here to learn personal love. Universal love. Messy love. Sweaty Love. Crazy love. Broken love. Whole love. Infused with divinity. Lived through the grace of stumbling. Demonstrated through the beauty of... messing up. Often. You didn't come here to be perfect, you already are. You came here to be gorgeously human. Flawed and fabulous. And rising again into remembering. But unconditional love? Stop telling that story. Love in truth doesn't need any adjectives. It doesn't require modifiers. It doesn't require the condition of perfection. It only asks you to show up. And do your best. That you stay present and feel fully. That you shine and fly and laugh and cry and hurt and heal and fall and get back up and play and work and live and die as YOU. Its enough. It's Plenty.

The only people for me are the ones who spill things, the ones who drop their cups sometimes, the ones who get dirty hands and messy hair, the ones who can go barefoot if they feel like it, the people who forget things, and can laugh at themselves every day...

Spirituality is not about being fixed; it is about God's being present in the mess of our unfixedness. (Messy Spirituality)

Our only chance at dismantling racial injustice is being more curious about its origins than we are worried about our comfort. It's not a comfortable conversation for any of us. It is risky and messy. It is haunting work to recall the sins of our past. But is this not the work we have been called to anyway? Is this not the work of the Holy Spirit to illuminate truth and inspire transformation? It's haunting. But it's also holy.

I had to clear up my messy life. By letting go of the debris and filth, I have come to a deeper, more soulful beauty and clarity like an oasis in the desert. From that place of clarity, a vision of what I could have, what I could do, who I could be has emerged if I allow my heart to become a place of compassion, acceptance and forgiveness.

PATH TO SUCCESS: DREAM. PLAN. DO. FAIL. NEVER GIVE UP. FAIL. NEVER GIVE UP. FAIL. NEVER GIVE UP. ACHIEVE! IT'S A MESSY JOURNEY.

You have to fight to reach your dream. You have to sacrifice and work hard for it.

Last, I would like to thank the dogs, not just the Vick pack, but all of them, simply for being dogs, which is to say, tolerant and perseverant; willing to connect with a world that does not always return their affection; and for proving, time and again, that life, while messy, difficult, and imperfect, has the capacity to exceed our expectations and feed our undying hope.

Transformation isn't a butterfly. It's the thing before you get to be a pretty bug flying away. It's huddling in the dark cocoon and then pushing your way out. It's the messy work of making sense of your fortunes and misfortunes, desires and doubts, hang-ups and sorrows, actions and accidents, mistakes and successes, so you can go on and become the person you must next become.

But sometimes you can't figure everything out because you can't ever really understand other people. You can't understand why they do what they do. You just have to accept a little mystery, Ben. People are mysterious, the world is mysterious. You can't know everything. You're not supposed to. This isn't a history book. It's just the world. It's a messy place.

She chose messy, she chose wild. She chose life on her own terms.

We bend. I bend to sweep crumbs and I bend to wipe vomit and I bend to pick up little ones and wipe away tears... And at the end of these days I bend next to the bed and I ask only that I could bend more, bend lower. Because I serve a Savior who came to be a servant. He lived bent low. And bent down here is where I see His face. He lived, only to die. Could I? Die to self and just break open for love. This Savior, His one purpose to spend Himself on behalf of messy us. Will I spend myself on behalf of those in front of me? And people say, “Don’t you get tired?” and yes, I do. But I’m face to face with Jesus in the dirt, and the more I bend the harder and better and fuller this life gets. And sure, we are tired, but oh we are happy. Because bent down low is where we find fullness of Joy.

The truth is, it's a weird time to be coming of age. The world is really messy right now. And it's so hard to be twelve or thirteen or fifteen or seventeen, when you're old enough to get it, but... you can't vote.

Life has been messy for me, as it has for most everyone. I have come to the realization that challenging experiences break us all at some point—our bodies and minds, our hearts and egos. When we put ourselves back together, we find that we are no longer perfectly straight, but rather bent and cracked. Yet it is through these cracks that our authenticity shines. It is by revealing these cracks that we can learn to see and be seen deeply.

The best stories are like the best burgers: big, juicy, and messy.

It was rare for things to be perfect and organized anyway, even with your best efforts. Embrace the messy and when things do come together just right, you'll always be pleasantly surprised.

Obviously, a rigid, blinkered, absolutist world view is the easiest to keep hold of, whereas the fluid, uncertain, metamorphic picture I've always carried about is rather more vulnerable. Yet I must cling with all my might to … my own soul; must hold on to its mischievous, iconoclastic, out-of-step clown-instincts, no matter how great the storm. And if that plunges me into contradiction and paradox, so be it; I've lived in that messy ocean all my life. I've fished in it for my art. This turbulent sea was the sea outside my bedroom window in Bombay. It is the sea by which I was born, and which I carry within me wherever I go.

The MIDDLE is messy, but it's also where the MAGIC happens.

Like it or not, you can’t be a Christian on your own. Following Jesus is a group activity, and from the beginning, it’s been a messy one; it’s been an incarnated one.

I stake the future on the few humble and hearty lovers who seek God passionately in the marvelous, messy world of redeemed and related realities that lie in front of our noses.

I’m a firm believer in the chaotic nature of the creative process needing to be chaotic. If we put too much structure on it, we will kill it. So there’s a fine balance between providing some structure and safety—financial and emotional—but also letting it get messy and stay messy for a while. To do that, you need to assess each situation to see what’s called for. And then you need to become what’s called for.

Describing good relatedness to someone, no matter how precisely or how often, does not inscribe it into the neural networks that inspire love. Self-help books are like car repair manuals: you can read them all day, but doing so doesn't fix a thing. Working on a car means rolling up your sleeves and getting under the hood, and you have to be willing to get dirt on your hands and grease beneath your fingernails. Overhauling emotional knowledge is no spectator sport; it demands the messy experience of yanking and tinkering that comes from a limbic bond. If someone's relationship today bear a troubled imprint, they do so because an influential relationship left its mark on a child's mind. When a limbic connection has established a neural pattern, it takes a limbic connection to revise it.

I am flawed, scarred and a beautiful mess.

Everything will be fine,” the ocean seemed to whisper. “Life will always be messy. But oh, it’s so incredibly beautiful, too.

I tried so hard to find life within myself, to live for something great—something that would make life worth living

Allowing yourself to follow the crevices of your heart lines is a messy process and not easy to characterize or rationalize into neat and tidy lists and boxes.

When you think no one sees you and you are so clouded in your messy state that you begin to think maybe just maybe even GOD is fed up. Know this: He sees the tears, collects them, pays you double for them, fortifies you with encouragement even through them and He will lift up your spirit.

As parents we carry the blueprints, the dreams of what our family could be. The plans change, the whole thing goes way over budget, there are unexpected additions, and the work never ends. Still, through the messiness of construction we see each other with such depth and hope. Our five year-old boy is still so clearly the baby he once was and sometimes—can you see it?—the young man he will one day be. We draw energy and inspiration from our dreams; our simple, common motivations. --SIMPLICITY PARENTING

It’s okay to be messy. Like sunflowers, galaxies, and fingerprints, your life is an intricately designed spiral. Your wrinkles, bumps, and bruises show the world you are a force of nature. Forget linear. When you embrace chaos, it brings its own kind of order.

I am wondering if many of the things that we say about ourselves as women, are actually responsible for leading us down detrimental paths in life. For example, usually we like to say that we're crazy, messy and lost. But when I think about it, I want to be of sound mind, with purpose and unlost (if there is such a word as unlost). Really, who wants to be mentally unstable and eternally insecure? I think maybe we need to stop saying these things about ourselves and we need to start seeing ourselves as what and who we really want to be.

I haven’t a clue either. I’m just someone struggling to recognize their messy life in a world of perfect Instagram ones and feeling like a bit of a fuck-up. Even worse, a forty-something fuck-up. Someone who reads a life-affirming quote and feels exhausted, not inspired. Who isn’t trying to achieve new goals, or set more challenges, because life is enough of a challenge as it is. And who does not feel #blessed and #winningatlife but mostly #noideawhatthefuckIamdoing and #canIgoogleit?

Christ is the ultimate example of how God enters the messiness of history to save his people.

Mending a broken heart isn't easy. It's messy and complicated, but when it's finished, it's stronger than ever.

The paradox for you to understand is that you aren’t broken or loved, messy or beautiful. You are broken and loved, messy and beautiful.

Life was messy and often hard. It did not wait for anybody to be ready or to expect the bumps on the road. You had to grab on to the wheel and steer your way back to your lane.

One of the hardest lessons I have learned from my messy life is that God sees trials differently than we do.

The world doesn't need our airbrushed stories or curated, scripted, boring, conforming selves. It needs our truths, messiness, weirdness, creative energy, and resistance.

No one creates a perfect resume on their first try. Writing a perfect resume is a messy process, but the easiest way to start is by simply getting in the right mindset and putting pen to paper.

What you must accept is that life can be messy, irrational, and horribly sad. Some things and people are out of our control, no matter how hard we try to manage them. It serves no purpose to waste energy in questioning every action you may or may not have taken. Such unending reassessment simply weighs you down and keeps you from appreciating the gifts that life has granted you, here and now.

People were messy. They were defined not only by what they’d done, but by what they would have done, under different circumstances, molded as much by their regrets as their actions, choices they stood by and those they wished they could undo.

Life was messy, filled with countless worries, questions—what ifs. The real question was not how a person conquered the what ifs, but how one learned to live in spite of them—even when faced with the reality that the answers weren’t always pretty.

Rather than idolizing perfection, we must choose to cherish what is real. To truly live is to love deeply, to get messy, to sometimes get hurt, and to stumble and fall. It is worth it. The alternative of living a life barren of these things in the pursuit of perfection would be tragically uninteresting.

I swapped countries. I now live in a warmer, more relaxed, more laid-back, happier, less competitive country (Italy), and I’m happy with that. When I go back to the UK I find it – in about equal measures – inspiring, motivating, alive, buzzing… but also overcrowded, over-competitive, striving, messy, uptight and neurotic.

Our only chance at dismantling racial injustice is being more curious about its origins than we are worried about our comfort. It’s not a comfortable conversation for any of us. It is risky and messy. It is haunting work to recall the sins of our past. But is this not the work we have been called to anyway? Is this not the work of the Holy Spirit to illuminate truth and inspire transformation? It’s haunting. But it’s also holy.

The confessional writer will treat her story like a wailing wall. She kneels, and her story spills out, messy, improper. It isn’t a protest or even graffiti, but her story is an offering of things that she overlooked or notices that others have overlooked. She is in danger of exposure but she remembers when she lived in hiding and that was worse. She cannot turn back now because this is how life has spun out of her, part vexing passage and part prayer.

I was inspired by their intergenerational relationships and annoyed that in the US, many of our elder Black liberals in the mainstream media condemned our music for its profane language, and young Black people too easily dismissed the messy yet rich traditions that made us possible. For many of us in the beginning, “Black Lives Matter” was a response to violence or a non-indictment; South Africa demonstrated that we deserved much more. I felt completely politically undone and inadequate. I’d been reading so much history but had not quite yet developed a political analysis connected to any tradition of organizing. I was getting smarter, not necessarily getting free.

Because it is the truth that will set us free. Sadly, too many of us in the church don't live like we believe this. We live as if we are afraid acknowledging the past will tighten the chains of injustice rather than break them. We live as if the ghosts of the past will snatch us if we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. So instead we walk around the valley, talk around the valley. We speak of the valley with cute euphemisms: "We just have so many divisions in this country." "If we could just get better at diversity, we'd be so much better off." "We are experiencing some cultural change." Our only chance at dismantling racial injustice is being more curious about its origins than we are worried about our comfort. It's not comfortable conversation for any of us. It is risky and messy. It is haunting work to recall the sings of our past. But is this not the work we have been called to anyway? Is this not the work of the Holy Spirit to illuminate truth and inspire transformation?

—You don’t like patriots? —I like the concept. It sounds good. To love the place where you’re from, nothing’s wrong with that, right? It’s all good. But is it love, really? Or is it pride? —I don’t understand. —Well, you can love something that’s flawed. It’s harder to be proud of it. Can you love something you’re not proud of? Much easier if you can do both. That’s where it gets messy because you need a reason. You have to have something to be proud of. Is it quality of life, education? How would you know? It has to be something much simpler. You, and people just like you. You start believing you’re better than everyone else. Other people, well, their culture is messed up, they have the wrong values, they’re not as good, not as smart, or they’re just plain evil. You can hate them or pretend you’re a good person and just be condescending. Everyone else is just as proud as you are for the exact same reasons, but they’re wrong, and you’re right. That’d be just fine—you can buy more tanks and go to war with the guy next door—but then you look around and you see those same people inside your country. More than that, they want the same rights, the same opportunities, as everyone else. Shit, they could be in charge! So you start taking things away from them, making sure they’ll stay where they belong, and let the real citizens make the decisions. You step on your own people, you keep them down, because you’re proud of your country, because you’re a patriot.

Since making movies is such a messy process, we need to be able to talk candidly, among ourselves, about the mess without having it shared outside the company. By sharing problems and sensitive issues with employees, we make them partners and partowners in our culture, and they do not want to let each other down.

If you can't handle me with a messy bun, then you don't deserve me with a fabulous blowout.

Dearest Amabot, If you only had a heart to absorb our hatred... Thanks for nothing, you jury-rigged rust bucket. The gorgeous messiness of flesh and blood with prevail!

your life mustn't be a closet for dirty laundry coz you will have a smelly and messy life...Yeah no matter how much you trying to clean up,the smell won't go away until you put away the "dirty laundry

Choosing life is always messy. But it is there in the messiness, in the conflicted and often confused ways we live our lives, that we can learn how much mercy matters to us all.

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We’re broken and life’s messy but there’s still this unconditional, ineffable love whispering to us. I don’t understand it but I believe it with every fibre of my being.

Get Inspired: Most of us are trying to live an authentic life. Deep down, we want to take off our game face and be real and imperfect. There is a line from Leonard Cohen’s song “Anthem” that serves as a reminder to me when I get into that place where I’m trying to control everything and make it perfect.6 The line is, “There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” So many of us run around spackling all of the cracks, trying to make everything look just right. This line helps me remember the beauty of the cracks (and the messy house and the imperfect manuscript and the too-tight jeans). It reminds me that our imperfections are not inadequacies; they are reminders that we’re all in this together. Imperfectly, but together.

Entrepreneurship is messy. Startup life is messy. Growing a business is messy. I guarantee you it NEVER looks as glamorous on the inside as it does from the outside. If you are comparing what is going on in your company to what you see your peers and competitors doing, and feel behind or inadequate, or in any way not up to par..... Just let it go. You have no idea what they are going through that you cannot see. You never will. You don't need to. Take a deep breath. Stay on your path. Stay focused on your mission. Stay focused on your customers. Stay focused on your team. Your family. Your health. Find connection and joy in your own journey. Allow yourself to be inspired and fueled by others' success, but by all means, do not allow yourself to get derailed or thrown off of your path. Stay focused.

Our only chance at dismantling racial injustice is being more curious about its origins than we are worried about our comfort. It’s not a comfortable conversation for any of us. It is risky and messy. It is haunting work to recall the sins of our past. But is this not the work we have been called to anyway? Is this not the work of the Holy Spirit to illuminate truth and inspire transformation? It’s haunting. But it’s also holy. And when we talk about race today, with all the pain packed into that conversation, the Holy Spirit remains in the room. This doesn’t mean the conversations aren’t painful, aren’t personal, aren’t charged with emotion. But it does mean we can survive. We can survive honest discussions about slavery, about convict leasing, about stolen land, deportation, discrimination, and exclusion. We can identify the harmful politics of gerrymandering, voter suppression, criminal justice laws, and policies that disproportionately affect people of color negatively. And we can expose the actions of white institutions—the history of segregation and white flight, the real impact of all-white leadership, the racial disparity in wages, and opportunities for advancement. We can lament and mourn. We can be livid and enraged. We can be honest. We can tell the truth. We can trust that the Holy Spirit is here. We must. For only by being truthful about how we got here can we begin to imagine another way.

For so long I believed that I should only feel pleasure when I no longer feel all the other things: the sadness, the loss, the fear. But emotions don't come parcelled neatly. They're shaken together and messy. Happiness laced with sadness. Hope tangled with fear. Love shadowed by loss. It isn't about waiting until I'm in a better place. Striving for a happy life. It's about feeling life.

Everything was okay. Maybe not perfect, but life wasn’t meant to be perfect. It was messy and sometimes it was a disaster, but there was beauty in the messiness and there could be peace in the disaster.

I look up at Lucy's light in the window, then at the black light. The universe is so big. And I'm so small. Messi was small and discounted. Nobody thought he would become the greatest of all time. But he did. George things he's won...but the game's so.not over yet.

Something deep in my character allows me to take the hits, and get on with trying to win. -Lionel Messi

I have come to learn that I am not perfect, nor will I ever be. Perfect is too hard. I'm perfectly fine with being perfectly imperfect. -attributed to Lionel Messi

Even now, when Benny and I are running down the soccer field and the wind is blowing through my Messi hair and the crowd is chanting my name (hey, I can dream, right?) and the sun is shining on my face and I'm going so fast I feel like I'm flying - he's with me. My dad. I feel him everywhere, but especially on the field. With me. His Golden Boy.

I kneel by my side of the bed to pray, something I've only ever done because Mom and Dad told me to. But today I decide on my own. After all, Messi's a believer too. I've seen him do it a hundred times - pointing at the sky when he scores, like he's acknowledging something or someone up there who holds pieces of his destiny. Destiny. It does seem like destiny flies in the face of ten thousand hours and actually earning a starting position. But even I have to admit - after all the fighting, after all the hard work - there's a piece of me that's looking for a miracle. So I look up and put my hands together....please.

How do you mark Cristiano Ronaldo? You try not to leave him alone, don't let him shoot on his right foot. And Lionel Messi? Just make the sign of the cross. -Giorgio Chiellini

You can overcome anything, if and only if you love something enough." -Lionel Messi

When you saw him you would think: this kid can't play ball...He's too fragile, too small. But immediately you'd realize that he was born different, that he was a phenomenon and that he was going to be impressive. -Adrian Coria on his first impression of twelve-year-old Lionel Messi, soccer phenom

Get moving, take action no matter how messy it is. Just show up.

If anyone needs a role model for inspiration in any field, then Messi is the Man.

Even as I wrote my debut, I felt inspired and strengthened to magnify the world’s interruptions, those double takes in black women’s lives that deserve further introspection and analysis, no matter how messy or contradictory they may be.

The mud-lusciousness of spring is a reminder to embrace life’s messiness and to find beauty in unexpected places.

Things could be messy and clumsy the first time you try something. But with time, the mess starts to disappear.

But love is complicated, it’s messy. It can inspire selflessness, selfishness, our greatest accomplishments and our hardest mistakes. It brings us together and it can just as easily drive us apart. It can drive us.

I often think about what Claire said to me in the apple orchard in Cold Creek. How when she asked me why I was looking for Sadie, I told her I had a daughter of my own because it felt like the most noble thing I could offer her at the time. Claire got mad at me, rightfully, for using my daughter as a reason to see the pain and suffering in her world, and as an excuse for my fumbling attempt to fix it. But I was lying at the time. I told Danny I didn’t want this story because I didn’t think it was one, and that was a lie too. I don’t know that the truth is much better. Girls go missing all the time. And ignorance is bliss. I didn’t want the story because I was afraid. I was afraid if what I wouldn’t find and I was afraid of what I would. I still am. I never got to meet Sadie Hunter, but I feel in some small though significant way, I’ve gotten to know her. Twenty years ago, she was born and placed in her mother’s arms, and six years after that her sister Mattie was placed in hers, and her whole world came alive. In Mattie, Sadie found a sense of purpose, a place to put her love. But love is complicated, it’s messy. It can inspire selflessness, selfishness, our greatest accomplishments and our hardest mistakes. It brings us together and it can just as easily drive us apart. It can drive us. When Sadie lost Mattie, it drove her to leave her home in Cold Creek, to take on the loneliness and pain of all those miles, just to find her little sister’s murderer and make the world right again, even, possibly, at expense of herself. We may never know exactly what happened between Sadie and Jack, but I know what I want to believe. And in this aftermath, it’s Sadie’s love for Mattie that remains, to fill in those gaps until - if, when - Sadie returns to tell us in her own words. And Sadie, if you’re out there, please let me know. Because I can’t take another dead girl

Mine is just one such story; every day, people around the world are making creative breakthroughs that change the way we live, listen, and learn. And although it may seem like these breakthroughs come about spontaneously, born from inspired bursts of clarity, the reality is that most of them make their way to the surface only after a series of disappointments, false starts, and spectacular failures. If you can find a way to smile through the letdowns, learn from the disasters, and—above all—stay loyal to the people you care about, you’ll discover that you’re unstoppable. Life is messy, and we’re all just a bunch of creeps and weirdos. And that’s okay. We are perfect, just the way we are. Now go forth and make art.

When someone is walking beside us, we have more courage to walk into the unknown and to risk the dark and messy places in our journey.

Consistency is the secret sauce - taking small sometimes messy steps paves the way for bigger achievements in the long run.

We'll be fine even if we miss you every millisecond of every moment of every hour of every day. You will always be in our hearts.

I wasn’t very competent with arts and crafts, and my attempt would probably be messy and look terrible. But even if it ended badly, I had to try. I bought a kintsugi kit because it represented so much of what Sin and I had become; fixing this would be symbolic and inspire me to push forward.

Life is messy, but the only way is through. Through the quicksand; through the hard lessons; through the distress; through the trauma; through the mess and the clutter.

You can open your beautiful heart. You can fi nd ways to keep your heart open. And facing the messiness of life is a surprisingly powerful and meaningful way to do it.

The mind has no innate perception to discern order; left or right, backward or forward, the flow of time, to the mind they are meaningless concepts embedded and taught, merely adaptations to survive, it's almost encoded within us to be messy and disordered, to be wild and crazy; to live, love, and laugh, for experience is the only true concept the mind is capable of understanding.

Skeptical Empiricism and the a-Platonic School The Platonic Approach Interested in what lies outside the Platonic fold Focuses on the inside of the Platonic fold Respect for those who have the guts to say “I don’t know” “You keep criticizing these models. These models are all we have.” Fat Tony Dr. John Thinks of Black Swans as a dominant source of randomness Thinks of ordinary fluctuations as a dominant source of randomness, with jumps as an afterthought Bottom-up Top-down Would ordinarily not wear suits (except to funerals) Wears dark suits, white shirts; speaks in a boring tone Prefers to be broadly right Precisely wrong Minimal theory, considers theorizing as a disease to resist Everything needs to fit some grand, general socioeconomic model and “the rigor of economic theory;” frowns on the “descriptive” Does not believe that we can easily compute probabilities Built their entire apparatus on the assumptions that we can compute probabilities Model: Sextus Empiricus and the school of evidence-based, minimum-theory empirical medicine Model: Laplacian mechanics, the world and the economy like a clock Develops intuitions from practice, goes from observations to books Relies on scientific papers, goes from books to practice Not inspired by any science, uses messy mathematics and computational methods Inspired by physics, relies on abstract mathematics Ideas based on skepticism, on the unread books in the library Ideas based on beliefs, on what they think they know Assumes Extremistan as a starting point Assumes Mediocristan as a starting point Sophisticated craft Poor science Seeks to be approximately right across a broad set of eventualities Seeks to be perfectly right in a narrow model, under precise assumptions

Los mejores jugadores que he visto en mi vida han sido Mardona, Messi y Pelé. Es muy difícil quedarse con uno pero si tuviera que elegir diría que Pelé fue el mejor porque era una gran atleta, muy completo, ganó tres Mundiales y porque además era el mejor en un equipo de cracks.

Tuve la suerte de jugar con Pelé en Santos y de entrenar a Diego Maradona en Argentina, y para mí Pelé fue mucho mejor jugador que Diego. Pelé fue una mezcla de Di Stéfano, Maradona, Cruyff, Messi, metido en un solo jugador.

¿El mejor jugador de la historia? Pelé. Messi y Cristiano Ronaldo son grandes futbolistas, pero Pelé era el mejor.

Messi fue el hijo de su papá y es el hijo de también de su mamá, es el hermano de sus hermanos. Messi es el mejor de sus compañeros, es el mejor jugador de fútbol del mundo de la actualidad. Pero siempre estuvo en el rol lógico en que la vida lo puso por eso por no haber tenido a lo mejor alguna necesidad de algún hombre, alguna deuda pendiente, Messi tiene comportamientos absolutamente tan austeros y lógicos que nosotros los periodistas lo convertimos a Messi en un personaje que no es y para el cual no está preparado para hacer. Maradona fue el papá de sus padres, el papá de sus hermanos, el super amigo de sus amigos el protector de sus protegidos, mientras que Messi fue la criatura lógica que nació, se crió, se desarrolló, se desenvolvió y se consagró dentro de la contención con que un niño puede llegar a ser hombre.

Grief. It resists all of our timelines and attempts to control. It is a wild animal of a thing, primal and raw in one moment, soft and tender and wounded in the next. Our bodies in those moments? Just portals for something so much bigger than we could ever be. That’s the way of love and loss and grief and joy and all we hold in our wild and unruly hearts. Larger than anything we could construct to attempt to contain the whole of this human thing, as messy as it can sometimes be. But when grief comes, mark my words, it will ultimately have its way.

Nothing about life is straightforward, Life is messy - disaster one after another! Only way we can survive this cataclysmic mess, Is with extreme cruelty or unyielding character.

My wife Tabby is an incredible woman who has taught our family the importance of joy, gratitude, and love. Her positive attitude and outlook on life have been an inspiration to us all.

Our journey has not been easy, but it has been worth it. By facing our own traumas and biases, we have been able to better understand and love the diverse world around us.

I had always thought that being a member of a non-denominational, Southern-Baptist-rooted, majority-white evangelical church was the only way to be a true Christian. But my journey has shown me that God is not confined to the boxes we try to put Him in.

It's not a disaster" Jasmyn said soothingly. "They always look like that in the back. Besides, you know what my pastor in my old church told me and my parents? He said that God is making beautiful needlepoint pictures with our lives. He can see them on his side, but we can only see the messy part on our side. But when we are in heaven with him, He will show us the beautiful pictures our lives made.

And honestly, I’m tired of knowing I have issues but having no clue how to rein them in on a given day. I need something simple. A quick reality check I can remember in the midst of the everyday messies.