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Quote by Philip Yancey

“Why the delay? Why does God let evil and pain so flagrantly exist, even thrive, on this planet?...He holds back for our sakes. Re-creation involves us; we are, in fact, at the center of his plan...the motive behind all human history, is to develop us, not God. Our very existence announces to the powers in the universe that restoration is under way. Every act of faith by every one of the people of God is like the tolling of a bell, and a faith like Job's reverberates throughout the universe.”

Quote by Philip Yancey

Work

Disappointment with God

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Author

Philip Yancey
Philip Yancey

Philip Yancey (born 1949) is one of the most influential contemporary Christian authors in the United States. He is widely known for his profound explorations of faith, suffering, and grace, blending personal experience, theological reflection, and literary narrative. His bestselling books, including Where Is God When It Hurts?, What's So Amazing About Grace?, and The Jesus I Never Knew, have sold over 15 million copies worldwide and been translated into dozens of languages. Yancey served as an editor for Christianity Today and has written for numerous publications. His honest, thoughtful, and accessible writing style has deeply impacted millions of readers, inviting both believers and skeptics to engage with the complexities of faith. more

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“They saw me. Milton's smile curled off his face like unsticky tape. And I knew immediately, I was a boy band, a boondoggle, born fool. He was going to pull a Danny Zuko in Grease when Sandy says hello to him in front of the T-Birds, a Mrs. Robinson when she tells Elaine she didn't seduce Benjamin, a Daisy when she chooses Tom with the disposition of a sour kiwi over Gatsby, a self-made man, a man engorged with dreams, who didn't mind throwing a pile of shirts around a room if he wanted too. My heart landslided. My legs earthquaked.”

“He was angry; not as the irritable, from chafing of a trifle; nor was his anger like the fool's, pumped from the wells of nothing, to be dissipated by a reproach or a curse; it was the wrath peculiar to ardent natures rudely awakened by the sudden annihilation of a hope --dream, if you will-- in which the choicest happinesses were thought to be certainly in reach. In such case nothing intermediate will carry off the passion --the quarrel is with Fate.”