Quotes from Kathleen Morgan

me was somehow tied up in that simple little verse. I clung to it for comfort. I held it close, examining its every facet. Yet as the weeks, months, then years began to pass, I came to realize I would never fully plumb the depths of its meaning—at least not in this life. Its meaning would always

I cannot hope to know God's will until I begin to search … and listen.

Ah, Abby thought, if only they knew and trusted in God's love! It was all the strength and comfort one could ever need. It was a light to guide one through the darkness. It lent purpose and direction when nothing else seemed to matter.

For every joy that passes, something beautiful remains.

Joy … It's a journey we all embark upon from the first moment we draw breath. We search so avidly for it. We cannot help it; it's inherent in our nature. Yet no matter how hard we strive, our joy can never truly be complete until we find it in the Lord.

Everything that happened in life-whether for good or bad, joyous or tragic reasons-held the potential to sanctify and bring one closer to the Lord. Even, Abby realized, the personal pain and horror of loss. In life's catastrophic upheavals, in the self-fragmentation, confusion, and spirit-shattering grief, there was always the hope of rebirth to a new and even better life-a life not of this world but of the Spirit.

The two men sipped their drinks silently, allowing Alastair a moment more to assess his visitor. The MacGregor tartan had been his idea. He wanted no one to suspect what was afoot. His guest's face, however, was difficult to make out. Despite the fire's warmth, the man seemed reluctant to remove the plaid from his head and

That's the greatest tribute you could pay Ella.

The tortured sounds followed Niall as he stumbled back to the hearth. Muted cries, choking sobs, mingled with the snapping, crackling clamor of the hungry fire. Time passed with lumbering slowness as Niall stared into the agitated flames, hearing it all from some place far away, even as the night's horror charred its memory into his soul. Never had he hurt so, not from any wound in battle, not from . . . He paused. The sounds

eyed him with affectionate skepticism. "And I say ye're far too trusting at times, lad.

For one final, exquisitely tender instant they clung to each other. Love, deep and bittersweet in this moment of truth, arced between them. Then there were hands, pushing them apart, drawing Niall away. "Yer pardon, m'lord," came an anxious voice. "It's time. It's women's work now. Step aside.

pain. Let me bear it. His grasp on her tightened, and he willed all the strength of his heart, his body, into hers. God forgive him, but he'd sacrifice the babe if only he could keep his bonny wife. How would he go on without her? She must live. She

Don't limit the Lord with your own shallow perceptions of Him, or assign Him a level of compassion equal only to yours …

Better to face bravely what God gives, to forget the past and forge on—

The impending snow held off long enough for them to reach