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What is left after war is silence: The silence of the death
And this I know: all these things that now, while we are still in the war, sink down in us like a stone, after the war shall waken again, and then shall begin the disentanglement of life and death.
There is neither a Heaven nor a Hell. Life after Death is an oxymoron. Life is just another word for existence, and Death is just another word for non-existence.
There is neither a Heaven for a Hell. Life after Death is an oxymoron. Life is just another word for existence, and Death is just another word for non-existence.
Smartass Disciple: Master, where will you go after your soul leaves your body?Master of Stupidity: What makes you think a soul will go elsewhere physically?
The Bible consistently and directly indicates that when we give generously, we're serving, honoring, and glorifying God. After all, generosity is fundamental to God's nature.
Thus ended the first and adventurous part of his existence. What followed was so different that, but for the reality of sorrow which remained with him, this strange part must have resembled a dream.
Men after the heart of God become the moral conscience, the guidance and custodians of justice, not simply in the security of the four walls of their church
Why did everyone like that story so much when it wasn't true? Why was everyone so eager to believe it? Was it because, in real life, ever after's generally stink?
The wealth of some people is here on earth. The wealth of other people is somewhere afar from the earth. Whatever the wealth may be, we must think of a wealth that is distinctive
I know the moment you died, Jesus' face was smiling on you, Welcoming you into His glorious city of gold. I know you are enjoying the incredible light and peace of His presence right now
What matters most, is not how my end happens, or if it happens now. What I care about in this instant, is that she knows how much I love her—that I lived long enough to have her love me back.
Fear of dying must surely mean fear of how one dies. If one can be assured of a painless death, how can one fear it, unless one is a religious fanatic with a very guilty conscience?
I doubted myself, and that made me doubt you. But you weren’t the problem. You were never the problem. I should have trusted you, but I didn’t, because I couldn’t trust myself.