I believe in things I can’t even see.
I believe in the wind. I believe in love. I believe in a Spirit who made all of us and who lives in all things. I believe I can feel and see and touch truth in ways I can’t explain or prove.
I believe in these things because the eyes of my spirit or heart can dimly see them. Like a ticking clock in a quiet room, these things can become loud and obvious when I focus on them. But in the same way that the ticking clock is drowned out by the everyday sounds of life — to the point we don’t even notice it’s there — these things which I believe are true can be easily obscured by the cacophony of this material world.
When my world becomes too loud — and the competing angry shouts and blasts of hate grow strong — I have to remind myself of these quiet things. I have to go inside my heart and become silent — so I can remember what I believe is true.

We’re neither friends nor enemies, just strangers who share the past
‘This path leads to somewhere I think I can finally say, I’m home’
When love finally dies, it’s like a fever breaks and the pain is gone
I like Ron Paul, but he’s not winning (and I don’t believe in the system)
I just found out an ex got married – and I’m shocked to feel jealous
Drug raid in Birmingham points to folly and failure of the ‘drug war’
Why can we sabotage ourselves?
Quit using the word ‘masculinity’
Why is it ‘isolationism’ to oppose killing those who didn’t attack us?