Rosalyn really enjoyed encouraging others. Some days, she'd send pretty notes filled with Scripture cards, tea bags and handmade paper glitter to her friends across the states. Other days she'd create pretty banners to hang up on doorways in the home. And sometimes on...

Perhaps it really didn't matter. Gigi picked up her dolls and scurried down the hallway. Using her elbow she pressed the large wooden door open and looked inside. Yes. It was perfect. Soft winter light caressed the quiet interior like invisible feathers of white down....

Again. Wistfully placing a few books back onto a shelf, Annie sighed. Oh, it wasn't that she was upset. Not really, anyway. It's just that ...well, it was like a sore finger that kept getting paper cuts. She had several such annoying slices lined up on her index...

Dust. Or was it dirt? I couldn't tell. Brushing a finger across the wooden surface I inspected the granules for myself. No, it was probably dust. Though dirt wouldn't have surprised me. Ever since arriving in this inspiring landscape I had noticed the expanses of...

I think I'll always remember it. The winter of 1940 was not particularly hope-filled for many homes. The knowledge of faraway bombings felt like faint echoes of encroaching pain. War was just like its name. An indication of feisty combat, a sign of disunity, a warning...

Dottie pulled one index finger slowly down the pane. Autumn frosts had glittered into existence and this morning’s sunlight turned every glint into a transient diamond. She smiled and watched the coolness melt against the heat of her hand. Murky grays melded into...

It was a wandering, windy, wonderful day of watching. Watching the squirrels making their last minute runs for stockpiling food. Watching a few lingering geese spread their wings and signal their start south. Watching the remaining oak leaves flicker into the path...

It was one of those days where the wind was bending himself all out of shape. As though his back had a kink and he needed to do all possible calisthenics to relieve the disordered joint. Katie didn’t mind. It made the tall pines bend their regal spires as though...

Our homes can be worlds of windows to the Word. Our walls a place of Truth, Hope and Life. Our table a landscape of reflection. Our rooms a home of remembrance. This, is a land of potential. A place of possibility for the presence of the perfect Word of God. Of all...

Liquid silence reflected the mute stirring of leaves. A humid blanket of moisture laid itself heavily against every wind that might venture upon the threshold. Not even the footfall of the rotating guard down below disturbed the thick, voiceless throb of time. Allie...