A dark and lonely rutted track That leads to somewhere far away. A journey with no time to slack Upon the quester’s weary way. To search for truth, forgotten long, Or wealth that waits, so bright and grand; To strive to right a wretched wrong, Or win a gentle maiden’s hand. In days long past such quests were

Our journey often leads To places we know well, To places often trod With heavy footsteps fell.           Our journey often leads To places yet unknown, To places left untouched Where never seed was sown.               Our path may not be neat Or trimmed with bushes green Or paved with pebbles smooth Nor marked for cities seen.           But a journey is for

Some days, It’s the way the sun shines through the window And seems to bounce back up. Some days it’s the way the coffee smells, Or the way the china clinks, Or the way my sheets feel wrapped around my legs. Some days it’s the way people remember me on the sidewalk, Or when a person gives

My title word is one of my favorites. I don’t often share testimonies because, really, what struggles have I had that could really be compared objectively to the crushing weights and pains that so many of my friends deal with on a daily basis? It sounds so self-absorbed to talk about your heartbreak when others have it so much

All of us are on a quest. We might not think of our lives as quests, but they are. A quest is defined as a search for something. People spend their lives searching for wealth, friends, validation, or even a spiritual awakening. In fact, the Bible commands Christians to search for Christ. And beyond a major lifelong search, we seek

How do I survive transitions? Being sent home from school to my family, injuring my knee and having to rest for weeks, and finishing school online. One word: goals. Not really a specific overall goal but a quest to always have a purpose in every change.     Change feels like dropping the TV remote and letting the buttons change the channel

What do Barack Obama, the late Kobe Bryant, and Viggo Mortenson (a.k.a. Aragorn, from The Lord of the Rings series) all have in common? All three of them are what we call third culture kids, or TCKs for short. What is a TCK, you ask? If you’re asking yourself this question, you are not alone. Many TCKs

My boots scuffed the red dirt road lightly as I walked, armed with a water bottle, a book, and a mission. Allured by a rumor of fresh berries, I had decided to exchange a Sunday afternoon doze for a hike to a waterfall and an alleged patch of wild strawberries. My path’s trajectory would lead me past the barn,

In the modern world, Since journeys are rare, I start Writing my own quest.     I write of mountains. To reach the treasure, I climb Impossible crags.     This journey is hard, Laden down by weight I feel Only on the page.

Kieran wiped the sweat off his brow and hefted the crates back on his shoulder. Of all the days for Marta to need the donkey, he thought ruefully, this was not a good one. He pushed through the gate in front of a cozy cottage and looked down at his scuffed boots and muddied trousers. There wasn’t much he

“Clenching your teeth harder won’t make your posture any straighter, Marissa.” I glanced sidelong at Marissa, eyebrow raised and a smirk just barely visible on my lips. Her head jerked to her left as she gaped at my comment.     “And straighter posture won’t make you any less of a tyrant, Katia.” She smirked back at me, obviously pleased

“What are we going to do today, Brain?” asked Pinky.     “The same thing we do every day,” Brain said. “Take over the world!”     Clara smiled to herself as she remembered the dubious grin of the scheming mouse. This infamous line of her favorite TV show often bounced through her head like a cross between bubbles and rubber balls—sometimes gentle

The fifth of March I sat before a book of history, Reading up on Washington and John F. Kennedy. I took a long and weary sigh, for life had lost its zest. I was no Lewis, nor no Clark; I had no daring quest.     But when I saw the syllabus, my heart gave such a jolt, Like Franklin when he

Was ever a desperate search so Peaceful as this? What path was so foggy and Calm as mine? What shapeshifter ever so Certain as I? I am revealed Without looking. God has not outfitted me with Icarian wings. The closer to the sun, The better I see.