I had been walking for some time. About four miles, I supposed. My car, an almost-new contraption, had sputtered to a stop somewhere along this Appalachian trail that was touted to be a
“Claudia! There you are.” My eyes snapped to Father, and I jerked my hand behind my back, hiding my phone behind a fold in my dress. He was striding towards me with long,
Today is the day. The thought played through Thea’s mind like a mantra as she brushed her teeth and pulled on her sneakers. She raked a comb through her shoulder-length brown hair
“Why?” demands Your child again; I’m injusticed, tired, petulant. “If you are God, then why?” No reason comes. I kick my feet Until You call and face me toward I AM. You
I remember a day when we sat around the fire and laughed while we sang. I remember a day where we jumped over walls and skipped over puddles in the yard. I remember
No rest for the Vivid The ones drowning in dreams The ones weaving skies out of sorrowful screams The ones wringing new colors out of old rusty blood The ones stepping up above
“God does not beg you for your natural gift, Nor does He lend an ear to impish taunts. He can remove the skill His servant flaunts, And to each rebel, His revenge is
“I volunteer because it’s so fulfilling! It feels so good!” “Working with kids makes me feel so full—like I’m fulfilling my purpose.” In response to questions of motive, how often
You wake up. You look straight ahead. You see a gate with lumps of pearls like grapes clustered on a stem. You suddenly feel light and run towards the gate. From a distance,
Food. Good food. Very good food. I could smell the aroma wafting down the carpeted stairway. The smell grew stronger as I followed my nose down the hallway like a hound dog on