"Is my God aloof? Does He stand over me, as a towering despot demanding my surrender to His will? Does He cloister Himself in enclaves of serenity rarely looking down upon my anguish? If this were the case, I could not believe in Him. But for the cross, my belief would flounder on myths and agnosticism. There on Calvary, my Savior, lonely, forsaken, twisted, bleeding, broken, thirsty, cried out in agony for my forgiveness. That’s the God for me!"