Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.  They’re always jumping, ever grazing, and seldom sleeping. Yup, it’s summertime and the kids are home.  Somewhere, tired teachers are on their

He sat just down in front, our senior and second, a.k.a. Kid Kaboom.  Sedate, standing tall, he’d taken his place on the ramp, awaiting his name, his time, his turn.

“The patriot’s blood is the seed of Freedom’s tree.” – Thomas Campbell On this sunny morning, we list it out.  “Paint the chicken coop,” he says, determined. “Clean the bathroom.  Finish

We were talking, my friend and I, about the hard, hard work of intercession.  How it’s right tough work one does for months and months.  That, in the carrying of

On the slab, there’s a basketball hoop, the first thing that hints at the residents of the place.  This is overshadowed by a large, spreading maple from which hangs two

It happened late one night as we slumbered peacefully in our beds.  In the dreaming hours, a scream of sheer terror shattered the dark.  I jolted awake, ripped from sleep, as my husband leapt up,

How many hours have I spent at that table just there, scribbling heart-bits in my journal, leather-bound Bible open before me?  Listing fingerprints, sweet traces of the eternal, in my

“When Someone You Love is Running.”  That was the title of the piece that went up that day.  And this is how it began. “It’s Wordless Wednesday here on the