On the way back to my house, the pounding fear began to radiate out from my abdomen and make my hands tremble.

Unexpected discovery. Humbling, yes, but also funny.  It’s creative.  Who knew this cottage would be so perfect for helping people. . .

It sits there, in it's place, torturing me. I know I need to write. I know I need to confess. I leave it there with its accusing black sc

A beautiful mess?  That is an oxymoron of my hyper organized personality. My brain wants to believe messes mean one thing. .

This group of people who have come together—these people who did not know, just 45 days ago, that we would be headed, in just a few days...

It hit me just as I was about to click on Google. Girl! Your faith is at its limit. You know it is.

I tried not to gawk.  I’m not at all sure I succeeded.  I hope I did not look as astounded as I felt.  This.  This is, well, more.

I stood there in the rain for a while, letting it wash the emotions (and what was left of my makeup) from my face. 

The questions are many and answers are few. People don’t understand stuff like this.  Mostly, I don’t either. 

If you want the truth, they will tell you the truth.  Now, do not be misled. Truth is not a synonym for their personal opinions. 

This Christmas sucks for her.  Never one to care much in the first place, she thought it would be no big deal. However, broken hearts demand

I have never seen anything like it.  I cannot reproduce it.  I have no idea why it happens here.  But it does.

The black sheep may feel unworthy, but there is one who seeks and will find him, bring him home and give him what he has always wanted.

To know how to be a man, one must know a man. Papa Ron will help you find yourself and your value. He will show you what you can be made of.

Wild Hope may not be reasonable, but when it is realized the result is worth the risk. Come, we will take you to the Hope giver.