Katie Ganshert Quotes

I think that the second we find ourselves asking 'who am I?' is the second we become the perfect person for the job.

Evan to Bethany: "Just trust me."
"You say it like it's so easy."
"Of course it's not."
"Then how am I supposed to 'just trust' you?"
"Funny thing about trust ... Sometimes you have to give it before you can experience it.

Not all things are worth saving, you know. But some are worth every ounce of fight you can throw at them.

Wildflowers burst from the ground in vivid blues and whites and violets, creating a picture more pleasing than anything her hands could design. She didn't understand how it was possible, but Evan had been right. The abundance of snow had produced an abundance of wildflowers. More than she's ever seen before. Somehow, those cold, lifeless winter months had prepared the land for something breathtaking. Something beautiful. Something brimming with life.

Sometimes she wondered if it wouldn't have been better to let herself experience it [the grief] in the beginning - like a Band-Aid torn off quickly. A burst of intense pain that stung and went away. That had to be better than this slow peel of heartache she experienced now. Her rush to forget had left her with a residual sadness she couldn't quite shake.

She doesn't sing in church anymore."
"Maybe she realizes there's nothing to sing about."
"Someday, Bethany, I hope you find out that you're wrong. There's so much to sing about.

God has a way of taking messed-up situations and flipping them on their heads.'
'Oh yeah? Give me one example.'
'Turning an executioner's cross into a symbol of hope.

Do you have things in your past you're not proud of? Things that make you feel ashamed?'
'That's what makes Christ's death on the cross so personal.

I guess that's what life is, though, isn't it? A whole bunch of little moments that don't seem significant or life-altering at the time, but when you look back . . .' She shook her head. 'I don't know. They become the most profoundly beautiful things.

You shouldn't let something that happened in the past stop you from having something that could be great in the present.

She didn't understand how it worked. She didn't understand why people starved to death and children ended up in orphanages while barren women longed for babies. She didn't understand why a cigarette break could save one person's life while driving home to get your daughter's hair bow could snatch another's. She would never understand why those people. Why that train. Why her.
But maybe she'd been asking the wrong question.
Maybe comfort wasn't found in the why.
Maybe comfort was to be found in the who.
A God who wept.

Sometimes people didn't set out to hide anything. Sometimes the walls came up so slowly that they weren't noticed until it was too late.

You know the story of the prodigal son?" Pastor Voss asked. "It's powerful, don't you think? The father running out to the wayward-turned-repentant son, giving him the best clothes, preparing a giant feast. All to celebrate his return. I always wonder, when I read that story, how different it would have been if, instead of accepting his father's gift, the son would have worn sackcloth and worked in his father's pigsty ... Loses some of its power that way, doesn't it?"
"You think that's what I'm doing?"
"God's calling you to be His son, not His slave. He doesn't want you to wear shackles, Davis. Not when He's already cut you free.

After Sara's accident, so many well-intentioned people had offered her words of hope - that God would heal her, that she would see again - as if that was a given. It was the same hope people had offered Marilyn all those years ago. Story upon story of women who had struggled through infertility and ended up with a child on the other side.
'God is good. It'll happen,' they had told her.
As if God's goodness depended upon whether or not He answered prayers the way people wanted Him to answer. The hard truth was the sometimes He didn't. He hadn't rescued Marilyn from her infertility, and He hadn't rescued Sara from her blindness. But that didn't negate His goodness. It just meant that He had different plans.

Aunt Mare, do you ever wish you'd had a different life? Something not so ... hard?"
"Sometimes. But then the hard is what makes us who we are. The hard is usually what God uses to draw us closer ... If I have to choose between what's easy or what will bring me closer to Him, I pray my choice will be Him."
"That's a scary prayer."
"Tell me about it."
A hint of a smile pulled up the corner of Sara's mouth. "But you pray it anyway.