Scott Meadows

“A shelf of loved books is an arsenal of memories.” -Andrew Peterson, Foreword.”
― Douglas Kaine McKelvey, Every Moment Holy

“Taking this enthusiastic exhortation as a model, here we see the divine endorsement of sensible pleasures, that is, things that we enjoy through our bodily senses.

Things we see-the brilliant purples, reds, and oranges of a sunset; the diamond blanket of stars arrayed every night; the panoramic glory of a fertile valley seen from the top of a mountain; the majesty of a well-cultivated garden in early summer.

Things we hear-the steady crashing of waves on a shoreline; the songs of birds in early spring after the long silence of winter; the soul-stirring harmony of strings, woodwinds, brass, and percussion; the innocent refreshment of laughter of children.

Things we smell-the fragrance of roses, the aroma of pine, the delightful odor of cedar, the scene of a home cooked meal.

Things we taste-the warm sweetness of chocolate chip cookies, the puckering sour of a glass of lemonade, the heavenly savoriness of a plate piled high with bacon, the surprising ye delightful bitterness of herbs, the piercing saltiness of well-seasoned meat.

And things we touch-the cool smoothness of cotton bedsheets, the warm comfort of a wool blanket, the reassuring strength of a hug from a friend, the soft tenderness of a kiss from your spouse.

All of these are gifts from God for our enjoyment.”
― Joe Rigney

“The theologian and storyteller John Shea once suggested that the kingdom of heaven is open to all who are willing to sit down with all. That’s a one-line caption for discipleship. In essence, the single condition for going to heaven is to have the kind of heart and the kind of openness that makes it possible for us to sit down with absolutely anyone and to share life and a table with him or her. If”
― Ronald Rolheiser, Domestic Monastery

“Like the flowing River that is yet always present, time that is always going is always coming. Time that is told by death and birth is held and redeemed by love which is always present. Time then is told by loves losses and by the coming of love and by love continuing ingratitude for what is lossed. It is folded and enfolded and unfolded forever and ever the love by which the dead are alive and the unborn welcomed into the womb. The great question for the old and the dying I think is not if they have loved and been loved enough but if they have been grateful enough for love received and given however much. No one who has gratitude is the onlyest one. Let us pray to be grateful to the last.”
― Wendell Berry