Quotes from Terri Guillemets

Visualize your long-term goals to paint your short-term actions on the canvas of now.

Dreams are as powerful as swords.

Some stand on tiptoe trying to talk to God — but you try too hard, friend — drop to your knees and listen; he'll hear you better that way.

God can never be a definition. He is more than even the entirety of the dictionary.

I wear a coat of angels' breath and warm myself with His love.

We strive to be God's worthy audience.

Don't let your hatred gossip.

Some secrets are fires so scorching, the only way to quench the burn is to tell someone.

I've heard that having gout toe-tally sucks!

As each day comes to us refreshed and anew, so does my gratitude renew itself daily. The breaking of the sun over the horizon is my grateful heart dawning upon a blessèd world.

Every day, spread the magical stardust of thankfulness into your life.

Appreciate comfort. Also appreciate those things that knock us off course enough to realize we should appreciate the comfort.

Fearing to lose what you have is not the same as appreciation. You have to move a step beyond that.

I like people who don't take life too seriously but who do take very seriously the gratitude for being alive.

Grief cries and life shines on — and hope paints a rainbow.

Regret is the glue that makes grief stick around for a lifetime.

If guilt or regret is an essential part of your grief, you will never stop grieving.

Grief is a burden but also a friend— It is not grief that wounds your heart but it is grief that heals your heart.

There is no timetable for grieving — Grief is a snail It's a shooting star A walk around the lake It's eternity Or frost 'til bloom — Memories coursing through the heart It lasts as many heartbeats as it takes; sometimes all of them.

Loss — the great redefiner of life.

Healing from grief is allowing the courage and purpose within you and the love someone else left you, to merge and create a new sense of being.

Grief is historian of the heart.

Grief bores holes in our hearts & heads like a woodpecker — peck peck peck — knock knock knock You can't make it stop Eventually it flies away — but leaves pits that never fully heal

Why does cold weather refresh old griefs? More quiet for reflection? Longer nights to lay awake? Like citrus, grief is a winter fruit.