Craig D. Lounsbrough Quotes
It might not be about perfection. Rather, it may be that that which is imperfect is that which has the most character.
Greatness demands that I understand that I am not nearly as big as I thought myself to be, but that I am capable of becoming far bigger than I ever imagined myself to be.
We want greatness, but we prefer it tamed and on a leash short enough for us to control it, yet long enough to allow it to retain some remote yet diminished flavor of greatness.
If God created great things with a point of vulnerability, it would lie in the reality that great things die in the hands of great ignorance.
I want to stand on the belief that great things are the product of ordinary people who are made great when they stand.
Such is the power of truth that even the slightest whisper of it can handily drown out the most boisterous of lies, which may explain why in many instances God only needs to whisper.
When I’m at the bottom looking up, the main question may not be ‘how do I get out of this hole?’ In reality, the main question might be ‘how do I get rid of the shovel that I used to dig it?
Lies are like paper-Mache in a rain storm.
There appears to be value in getting past a mentality that good things can only rest in good things.
To recklessly excuse a failure is to believe that I’ve effectively erased it from the story of my life, when I’ve actually imprinted it in indelible ink.
I would be quite wise to realize that I will never craft a solution that will be the ‘end-all, ’ and that God’s ability to craft perfect solutions never ends ‘at-all.
Every life is a canvas and every interaction is a brush, therefore we’d be wise to consider how we handle the paint.
In the midst of our worried searching we recklessly abandon the treasures that life has bestowed upon us in the mad hunt for that which we wish to bestow upon ourselves.
Christmas seems to say that paradise lost and longed for does not have to be paradise given up on.
It was the greatest, most intricate, most ingenious and most costly rescue mission in all of human history.
Christmas is God being relentless to the point that He would die in that relentlessness.
Christmas is God saving mankind from the folly of mankind’s grandiose sense of greatness.
Christmas is not a story birthed of a humanized god for it simply doesn’t fit into the rubric of such an emaciated plot.
Christmas was about understanding that servanthood would win the hearts of men for eternity, where raw power might win them only for a moment, if at all.
Christmas was an ingenious plan designed by God to lay siege to the hearts of all men by submitting Himself to the greed of all men.
We cannot humanize the fact that the story was penned to have the eternal God, Who Himself knows no beginning nor is in need of one, choose to experience a beginning. That is genius in and of itself.
Christmas is a clandestinely ingenious script that outlines a plan to reclaim mankind through a strategy unimagined and unimaginable. This strategy involved God writing His own death into the script.
Christmas is everything that God would do, and nothing that we would imagine Him doing.
Maybe the greatest hope of Christmas is that what it purports to be is exactly what it is.
The ‘deep pause’ needed to cultivate wonder is far too often back-filled with an incessant busyness, as busyness errantly presumes a ‘deep pause’ to be deeply wasteful.
It’s about recognizing that the great movements and moments in history laid on the backs of ordinary people who simply chose to do extraordinary things.
Being our best is asking how can we take ourselves to the precipice of our own limits in any and every situation?
Consequences need not be the obstacles that I dread, but the direction that I need.
I have both the violent turbulence of the storm and the quiet promises of God in the storm. And what I must work to remember is that something is not necessarily stronger simply because it’s louder.
Uncommon solutions can always overcome problems of the most common or uncommon kind if I am sufficiently committed to overcoming them.
In God’s vocabulary, ‘lost’ is an unnecessary adjective that is easily erased by the adjective ‘found’ if we would simply be brave enough to hand Him the eraser.
I am thankful that to be attuned to the needs of another attunes us to the world, and that if I stay attuned only to my needs I will always be a stranger to the world.
I am thankful that sacrifice is non-negotiable, and that counting the cost in giving to another is foolishly assuming that we can put a price on sacrifice.
There’s something tightly woven throughout the fabric of our humanity that runs entirely opposite to the baser instinct of looking out for our own good.
Being our best involves walking away from every situation with less than what we had when we encountered it because we left something behind in the exchange.
Yet, there is a sense of some deep sort that runs entirely contrary to human nature, that in putting ourselves first, we must by necessity put others first.
The very places that we presume God not to be are the very places that are filled with His footprints and littered with His fingerprints.
It is the state of the heart within us that determines the nature of the triggers we will pull outside of us.
I suppose that one of my greatest problem lays in the fact that I have assumed a blessing to be something that is mine for the taking, verses being something that by sheer exposure to it takes me.
Can anything be called an achievement if it does not simultaneously enhance the life of someone other than the one who has done the achieving?
Being lost without grasping the rather obvious fact that we are lost is by far the best guarantee we have that we’re going to stay lost.
If in fact it’s not too late to realize that something’s ‘too late’, then there’s a good chance that it’s not.
If the truth gets in the way, I will remove it. But truth be told, removing the truth never removes the truth.
We opt to be seen as ‘right’ in the eyes of everyone else, rather than doing what’s ‘right’ in light of the situation.