Savannah Guthrie Quotes

When we count our blessings and remember what we are thankful for and what is good in our lives, we are the beneficiaries. It lifts our spirits and fills us with joy.

In a way, a bonus commandment was hidden within the two that Jesus mentioned. Love the Lord God. Love your neighbor. And love yourself.

Worry is the warning light that God has been shoved to the sideline.

I once heard a pastor say God is like a radio station that is always on, always transmitting. Whether we tune in is up to us.

Blank space. Quiet. Nothingness. This is where God has the greatest opportunity to do his thing.

Going through deep crises, profound adversity—those are the make-or-break moments for faith; they can be existential threats to your belief, or they can be extraordinary teachers. Sometimes they are both, and not always at the same time.

He doesn't even need words from us. Just a sigh, a tear, or a whimper. What an amazing resource we have in a God who already understands our whole history, our intricate emotional fabric, our every inner thought. We don't have to explain anything.

God himself is taking care of me; my every need is met. He causes me to relax, rest, give up control, and feel his comfort, like cool grass, envelop me. Where he takes me, peace can be found; he shows me tranquility and calm. He gives back to me all that the world has taken;

Imagine it—God loving you. Seeing you, appreciating you, delighting in you. Knowing you, having compassion on you, healing you, forgiving you. See it, appreciate it, grasp it, hold on to it. Inhale deeply of his goodwill and attune yourself to evidence of his love. Look for it everywhere.

Spirit of the Sovereign LORD . . . has sent me . . . to comfort all who mourn . . . to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes . . . a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. Isaiah 61:1–3 A garment of praise. What a treasure buried in a long, famous passage from Isaiah.

doubt is not a lack of faith. It is not the opposite of faith. It is an aspect of faith—a feature, not a bug, as the computer nerds like to say. Doubt is just faith being worked out, like a muscle. Put in the effort, do the reps, and ask the questions—it’s spiritual strength you’re building.

It is a choice every day to remain in God’s love, actively believing it, looking for it everywhere, choosing to interpret circumstances in that light. It amounts to giving God the benefit of the doubt, attributing good intentions to him. Even in times of hardship, asking yourself, How is God loving me in this moment?

How does anyone who suffers unfairly feel that mostly what God does is love them? When they feel that love from us. For those suffering, God might be too difficult to believe in, too far removed, too esoteric a concept to be felt. Who can blame them? But love, care, and touch from a fellow human being right alongside them should not be.

Why does God allow suffering? Why would a loving God allow evil in the world to persist? Why does injustice go unchecked, millennia after millennia? Why doesn’t God swoop down and put an end to it, once and for all? I have wondered these things aloud to God. Sometimes this is what I hear back. It is not over yet. Evil will not prevail. I did swoop down. I broke off a piece of myself and came into the world to change everything. I am doing it. You want me to crush evil in one decisive blow, but that would crush humanity itself. The world you know would end. I am on a different path, a redemption mission. Demonstration instead of destruction. Showing, not forcing. Love, not violence. This takes time. I’m not done yet. It would not be hard to find the flaws in reasoning or leaps in logic, but for the moment, this makes sense to me. Or at least, it brings me some peace. I am willing to believe.

When people sometimes ask me how "I got here," I have to smile. It was a zigzagging, dotted, sometimes broken line, with pauses and detours and disasters. Beginnings that ended too soon. Endings that turned out to be beginnings.

God does not cause evil and suffering. But he can transform it. This is a phenomenally fine distinction, but one that matters. We live in a broken world. A world of accidents, unfairness, and sickness. A world of plane crashes and child abuse. A world of lying and manipulation and shallowness. A world that sometimes seems setup for the wicked to prosper, as Job 21:7 says. This is not the world God intended, or one that he will allow to persist forever. But while we are here, while he is working out a cosmic rescue and reconciliation that is far beyond our understanding, he promises to be present with us. He promises to make good out of bad. He promises to transform what is wrong, into something that is right. And that is an act of God.

I have a hard time believing God outright causes evil and suffering. It isn’t consistent with the God I know. But at the same time, we face an excruciating and undeniable fact: sometimes, he allows it. And if he allows suffering, when he could stop it, what’s the difference? It might as well be him causing it. I don’t like this truth, but I can’t run from it, or sugar coat it. If we really believe in an all powerful God, one with supernatural sovereignty over time and space, then we must believe he possesses the power to protect us, and shield us from harm. And sometimes doesn’t use it. Why? This is the ultimate “why God?” for me. The ultimate threat to my faith. I can imagine no greater challenge to our belief than when something devastating happens to us, or even worse, someone we love.

Sometimes faith is simply choosing to live. Choosing to coexist with questions for which there will never be a satisfying explanation. Not in this life anyway.

Mostly what God does is love you. To believe this about God is the essence of faith. Giving God the benefit of the doubt in a world that invites cynicism and despair. I’ve always felt believing in God isn’t really the hard part. Believing he is good and actively engaged in our lives and the world in the face of so much pain, that’s the hard part. God does not require us to ignore, or gloss over the sorrows we experience or the unjustness we see, but to believe past them. Believe that he is on the case, that his intentions toward us are good, that he is ever inclined toward forgiveness, and reconciliation. That the pains of this world are not his original plan, and will not be how the story ends. This is faith.