rest

Meddling with God’s Plans?

Jen went to the landscape calendar hanging on the wall next to the fridge. Her index finger counted the days since the interview. Only three? Feels more like ten. The slap of her flip-flops followed her back to her task, sorting the clothes spread across the blue leather couch. I expected to hear by now….

Stolen Nights

She turned off the lamp for another attempt. “I feel like I’m fighting my own brain. I gotta get some sleep.” Her wrestling match with the fresh winter sheets ended in a draw. “Time to try something else.”

Grace for Runaway Horses

You lost it again. Whether you actually raised your voice or not, the damage is done. You slipped the reins of self-control and your bad attitude reared its ugly head. Like a wild stallion your piercing eyes, sharp tongue, body language broke their constraints and led the stampede of destructive words. Hopefully, realization dawns quickly. You…