“The words were unexpected, but so incisively true. So much of prayer is like that - an encounter with a truth that has sunk to the bottom of the heart, that wants to be found, wants to be spoken, wants to be elevated into the realm of sacredness.”

“It feels like spoken words, this bridge. I want it but fear it. God, I want so desperately to reach the other side - just like I want the words. I want my words to build bridges strong enough to walk on. I want them to tower over the world so I can stand up on them and walk to the other side.”

“But come to California. Come to these canyons if you want to be driven by sacredness into the air. If you dream of the true, clear silences, if you want those silences to sing - come to California.”

“God doesn't want religious duty. He doesn't want a distracted, half-hearted, 'Fine, I'll read a chapter...now are You happy?' attitude. God wants His word to be a delight to us, so much that we meditate on it day and night.”

“There was so much we had done to ourselves, so much we said in our sessions that our hearts were rent with sorrow. There is so much that happens to the human heart that is in the realm of the unthinkable, the unknowable, the unbearable. (95)”

“You *are* my family,' he said. The tears almost started up again. Those four little words meant so much to me - which was stupid, really. They were just words. But they were words I'd been wanting to hear, wanting to believe. *You are my family*.”