Quotes About Father

A large part of my life revolves around my dad. Sometimes, I even feel a strong sense of connection, something very tangible when I learn something new in the martial arts.

I like words. And I always learn a few new ones when Father gets angry. I shouldn't neglect my education, now should I?

Identify yourselves. You on the left, who are you?" "My name is Gagaril," the man said. "I'm sorry," Lightsong said. The man flushed. "I was named after my father, Your Grace." "After he what? Spent an unusual amount of time at the local tavern?

Never go on a date unarmed." Words of wisdom from my father. Well, my foster father. I was an orphan, of course. The best kings always are.

Adolin might claim he was a different from his father, but in fact they were two shades of the same paint. Often, two similar colors clashed worse than wildly different ones would.

I was wrong though. The hike was longer than I had remembered, and I did manage to get lost. So I was wandering down there, imagining the glory of the awesome battle happening above, when my father infamously broke ranks and fled from the enemy. His own flight shot him down in retribution. By the time I got home, the battle had been won, my father was gone. And I'd been branded the daughter of a coward.

You have to learn when to care, son. His father's voice. And when to let go. You'll grow calluses. He never had. Storm him, he never had. It was why he'd never made a good surgeon. He couldn't lose patients.

That's the difference between you and them, Elend, he thought. Those philosophers you read – they were revolutionaries. They were willing to risk execution. You can't even stand up to your father.

Ever since learning of Anna's betrayal, she had refused to think of him in any way except as Ned's father. She

My dad was a master butcher and I trained to be a butcher when I left school. I didn't enjoy it at the time but I love cooking now, so perhaps I would have been a chef.

I go back beyond the old man Mind and body broken To find the unbroken man. It is the moment before the dance begins. Your lips are enjoying themselves Whistling an air. Whatever happens or cannot happen In the time I have to spare I see you dancing father

Against insurmountable obstacles and without a clue as to the outcome, the trusting heart says, 'Abba, I surrender my will and my life to you without any reservation and with boundless confidence, for you are my loving Father.

He is the only God man has ever heard of who loves sinners. False gods—the gods of human manufacturing—despise sinners, but the Father of Jesus loves all, no matter what they do.

One of the mysteries of the gospel tradition is this strange attraction of Jesus for the unattractive, this strange desire for the undesirable, this strange love for the unlovely. The key to this mystery is, of course, Abba. Jesus does what He sees the Father doing; He loves those whom the Father loves.1

We need a new kind of relationship with the Father that drives out fear and mistrust and anxiety and guilt, that permits us to be hopeful and joyous, trusting and compassionate.

Dear Abba, I'm stepping into a new day brimming with new mercies, fresh-slate-do-over grace extended freely to me by Your hands. But it is not just given to me but to all. So that my attempts to control and manipulate others, even if it's in their best interests, is not only to spit on the grace given them, but also that given to me. Father, the only thing truly "for our own good" is Your mercy. Nothing else comes close. Nothing. Have mercy on me.

When we wander off the path, that trust pulls us back; and we do not flinch, hesitate, or worry about being unwelcome in the Father's arms.

Dear Lord, grant me the grace of wonder. Surprise me, amaze me, awe me in every crevice of Your universe. Delight me to see how Your Christ plays in ten thousand places, lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not His, to the Father through the features of men's faces. Each day enrapture me with Your marvelous things without number. I do not ask to see the reason for it all; I ask only to share the wonder of it all.

The foundation of the furious longing of God is the Father who is the originating Lover, the Son who is the full self-expression of that Love, and the Spirit who is the original and inexhaustible activity of that Love, drawing the created universe into itself.

Abba, You stretch wide Your loving arms to me in the darkest, loneliest moments of my life.

The confession of John the apostle that God is love is the fundamental meaning of the holy and adorable Trinity. Put bluntly, God is sheer Being-in-Love and there was never a time when God was not love. The foundation of the furious longing of God is the Father who is the originating Lover, the Son who is the full self-expression of that Love, and the Spirit who is the original and inexhaustible activity of that Love, drawing the created universe into itself.

ABBA, I BELONG TO YOU.

given to me. Father, the only

What the father planted will be harvested, and nothing will get in the way. Not heresies, schisms, ecclesiastical blunders, defections, moral failures; not if the budget isn't balanced; not if I can't find a way to end this book; not persecutions or nuclear holocausts—nothing will obstruct the coming of the Kingdom.