
The Storms that Flood the Fruit
Years ago, on a whim, I grabbed a bag of zinnia seeds and scattered its contents into the empty earth of my flower bed. A
Years ago, on a whim, I grabbed a bag of zinnia seeds and scattered its contents into the empty earth of my flower bed. A
It seems the theme of my life as of late is “wait.” Wait for answers, for healing, for change, for restoration, for desires and dreams.
Sitting on our back porch, I copied passages of scripture into my journal. I felt the summer breeze brush across my face, shifting my eyes
This article was originally published on Gospel-Centered Discipleship. It was a warm October that year. As the leaves began to boast one last time bearing
I’ll never forget it. I can never unsee it and I can never unfeel it. The pain of watching the ultrasound tech search for that
“How long, O Lord?” Two tears fell to the pages of my Bible one after the other as lament sprung from my lips. More tears