Susan Mather Barone

“We live at home, quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us.”
― Jane Austen, Persuasion

“Pastor Jon was silent for a couple of minutes. Then he stood and walked closer to The Last Supper. He pointed to Jesus. " Think about what happened after this moment. "
What do you mean?
Well, Jesus is God, right? He knew before he ever created the earth that the plan would be for him to go to the cross not long after this scene, the Last Supper in the upper room, right?
I nodded. Yes, but I still---
Okay he knew what the plan was, what God's decision was, but did he go straight from the supper to the cross?
I thought through the story, No, he went to the garden to pray.
And what did he pray?
That's when he said, Let this cup pass from me and Thy will be done.
Exactly, Jesus who is God and who already knew the plan, still prayed that it could be different. He still asked God to change it, to spare him, even though he knew the answer before he said the prayer.
The reason Jesus stopped in the garden to pray, to ask for a different outcome, even though he knew the answer already, was because the purpose of prayer isn't to bend God's will to ours. The purpose of prayer is to bend us to God's will.”
― W. Lee Warren, Called Out: A Brain Surgeon Goes to War

“My son, I want you to be shrewd, careful, and to guard your party affiliation carefully beneath the shadow of the cross. Donkeys and elephants be hanged. Because that’s the only allegiance that offers a roadmap out of the mire of the political mess we’ve made.”
― Jasmine L. Holmes, Mother to Son: Letters to a Black Boy on Identity and Hope

“I spent my life folded between the pages of books.
In the absence of human relationships I formed bonds with paper characters. I lived love and loss through stories threaded in history; I experienced adolescence by association. My world is one interwoven web of words, stringing limb to limb, bone to sinew, thoughts and images all together. I am a being comprised of letters, a character created by sentences, a figment of imagination formed through fiction.”
― Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me