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“When someone puts an end to something, it doesn't mean that he gave up, it means that thing is not taking him anywhere.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson

“Just underneath your breaking point lies your true strength.”
― Jennifer Tindugan-Adoviso

“Their Love said, “Made for Each Otherâ€�
Our Love says, “Made from Each Other”
― Jasleen Kaur Gumber

“The moment the Spirit has quickened us to life in regeneration our whole being sense its kinship to God and leaps us in joyous recognition. That is the heavenly birth without which we cannot see the Kingdom of God.”
― A.W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God: The Human Thirst for the Divine

“Never keep your brain so full that people’s opinions take up every pew in your mind, and truth has to be “born againâ€� before it is believed.”
― Shannon L. Alder

“The greatest of all capabilities of a human being is to become born again.”
― J.R. Rim

“We are paint streaked runners,
deafened by the cries of all the sad people.
It's a powerful sound that practically yanks the tears right out of you.
Sometimes, you just can't help but feel like a
very small
clam in
a very
big ocean.”
― Taylor Rhodes, Sixteenth Notes: the breaking of the rose-colored glasses

“Wait, go back to that Southern Baptist part,â€� Julia said, interrupting, as she does.

“Are you a born-again?� articulating her question as if she were asking me if I were really a headhunter or a Martian.

“Yes,â€� I said, “but I'm not an asshole. At least not theologically speaking.”
― Cathleen Falsani, Sin Boldly: A Field Guide for Grace

“If I would be made come to earth again, I would ask for the same mother again. If made to return 100 times to earth, I would request to be born through the same mother 100 times!”
― Israelmore Ayivor, The Great Hand Book of Quotes

“Pour Into My Spirit

...spread your arms around me
console me and keep me close -
wield your mighty sword
to vanquish all my foes...”
― Muse, Enigmatic Evolution

“No one will make a good end to the life into which he is born unless he is born again before he ends it.”
― Augustine of Hippo

“Ones Rebirth and Resurrection are singular acts of God".

~R. Alan Woods [2013]”
― R. Alan Woods, The Journey Is the Destination: A Book of Quotes With Commentaries

“On a summer morning she woke to a sense of returning health. She had been lying like a waste shore, at low spring-tide, covered with dry seaweeds, withered jelly-fishes, and a multitudinous life that gasped for the ocean: at last the cook washing throb of the great sea of bliss, whose fountain is the heart of God, had stolen upon her consciousness, and she knew that she lived.”
― George MacDonald

“We all have that divine moment, when our lives are transformed by the knowledge of the truth.”
― Lailah Gifty Akita, Pearls of Wisdom: Great mind

“Every 'Born again' Christian is already called to be a Minister of God (By Commission, Matthew 28:19) and a Royal Priest (By Calling, 1 Peter 2:9).
The only thing left now for us Christians to achieve in this small life is,
To become A Compassionate individual (1 Peter 3:8),
An Effective Disciple (John 8:31,32) and
A Better Christian (Philippians 1:9-11).”
― Santosh Thankachan

“I have a complicated spiritual history. Here's the short version: I was born into a Mass-going Roman Catholic family, but my parents left the church when I was in the fifth grade and joined a Southern Baptist church—yes, in Connecticut. I am an alumnus of Wheaton College—Billy Graham's alma mater in Illinois, not the Seven Sisters school in Massachusetts—and the summer between my junior and senior year of (Christian) high school, I spent a couple of months on a missions trip performing in whiteface as a mime-for-the-Lord on the streets of London's West End. Once I left home for Wheaton, I ended up worshiping variously (and when I could haul my lazy tuckus out of bed) at the nondenominational Bible church next to the college, a Christian hippie commune in inner-city Chicago left over from the Jesus Freak movement of the 1960s, and an artsy-fartsy suburban Episcopal parish that ended up splitting over same-sex issues. My husband of more than a decade likes to describe himself as a “collapsed Catholic,â€� and for more than twenty-five years, I have been a born-again Christian. Groan, I know. But there's really no better term in the current popular lexicon to describe my seminal spiritual experience. It happened in the summer of 1980 when I was about to turn ten years old. My parents had both had born-again experiences themselves about six months earlier, shortly before our family left the Catholic church—much to the shock and dismay of the rest of our extended Irish and/or Italian Catholic family—and started worshiping in a rented public grade school gymnasium with the Southern Baptists. My mother had told me all about what she'd experienced with God and how I needed to give my heart to Jesus so I could spend eternity with him in heaven and not frying in hell. I was an intellectually stubborn and precocious child, so I didn't just kneel down with her and pray the first time she told me about what was going on with her and Daddy and Jesus. If something similar was going to happen to me, it was going to happen in my own sweet time. A few months into our family's new spiritual adventure, after hearing many lectures from Mom and sitting through any number of sermons at the Baptist church—each ending with an altar call and an invitation to make Jesus the Lord of my life—I got up from bed late one Sunday night and went downstairs to the den where my mother was watching television. I couldn't sleep, which was unusual for me as a child. I was a champion snoozer. In hindsight I realize something must have been troubling my spirit.

Mom went into the kitchen for a cup of tea and left me alone with the television, which she had tuned to a church service. I don't remember exactly what the preacher said in his impassioned, sweaty sermon, but I do recall three things crystal clearly: The preacher was Jimmy Swaggart; he gave an altar call, inviting the folks in the congregation in front of him and at home in TV land to pray a simple prayer asking Jesus to come into their hearts; and that I prayed that prayer then and there, alone in the den in front of the idiot box. Seriously. That is precisely how I got “saved.â€� Alone. Watching Jimmy Swaggart on late-night TV. I also spent a painful vacation with my family one summer at Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker's Heritage USA Christian theme park in South Carolina. But that's a whole other bookâ€�”
― Cathleen Falsani, Sin Boldly: A Field Guide for Grace