“Death doesn't take away the impact they made on our lives or their importance to God. To be gone from here is to be present in glory. It doesn't feel like it now, but I assure you each day will get a little easier. Each week will add more distance from the pain.”

“The place doesn't matter. It's the person. It's you and it's me. That's the important part. I happen to love where I am. In your bed that smells like you, surrounded by the things that make you you.”

“Each evening, I ached for the shelter of my tent, for the smallest sense that something was shielding me from the entire rest of the world, keeping me safe not from danger, but from vastness itself. I loved the dim, clammy dark of my tent, the cozy familiarity of the way I arranged my few belongings all around me each night.”

“I can't walk away from you. I tried. I can't do it. Even as I was trying, I knew it was stupid. I already knew I wasn't really going anywhere. God, Hope. I care about you. I don't want to walk away." I coil my fingers in between her braids and twists, holding her head to my chest. "I'm broken, too. I think..." I lick my lips and press them into her hair. "I think we can fix each other.”

“I happen to believe that America is dying of loneliness, that we, as a people, have bought into the false dream of convenience, and turned away from a deep engagement with our internal lives—those fountains of inconvenient feeling—and toward the frantic enticements of what our friends in the Greed Business call the Free Market. We’re hurtling through time and space and information faster and faster, seeking that network connection. But at the same time we’re falling away from our families and our neighbors and ourselves. We ego-surf and update our status and brush up on which celebrities are ruining themselves, and how. But the cure won’t stick.”

“If our testimonies are strong onthis point and if we feel the absolute assurance that God loves us, we will change our questons. We won't ask, 'Why did this happen?' or 'Why doesn't God care about me?' Instead, our questions will become, 'What can I learn from this experience?' or 'How does the Lord want me to handle this?”

“Don’t listen to those people who suggest you should be “over” your daughter’s death by now. The people who squawk the loudest about suchthings have almost never had to get over anything. Or at least not anything that was genuinely, mind-fuckingly, soul-crushingly life altering. Some ofthose people believe they’re being helpful by minimizing your pain. Others are scared of the intensity of your loss and so they use their words topush your grief away. Many of those people love you and are worthy of your love, but they are not the people who will be helpful to you when itcomes to healing the pain of your daughter’s death.They live on Planet Earth. You live on Planet My Baby Died.”