It’s almost hard to believe it’s September already. Tonight we start rehearsals for the Christmas play at my church. The leaves on the birch tree beside the deck are already yellowing and tumbling down to from the branches, littering the grass below. The air this morning is cool. Soon it will be boot-and-sweater weather and time for sitting around bonfires with friends, sparks flying up toward the night stars and the smoky scent of the fire mingling with the fresh, dewy autumn air. Soon the leaves will be emblazoned with the fiery hues of Fall and the air will be brisk and bright and full of restless energy. Continue reading “A Composition of Nows”
Leona stared, unseeing, at the small grungy duplex. Her eyes fixed upon the fading gray door and penetrated through the walls to her past. That night so long ago came rushing back like a tidal flood and nearly drowned her once again in the pain of it all. She could see the others—homies, out for a good time and looking for themselves. They couldn’t abandon her fast enough when the cops showed up. Continue reading “Become New”
Walking the Line in Christian Fiction
As Christians we have a responsibility to write in a way that does not lead our readers toward sin. It is our responsibility to keep our work clean and not write in a way that would dishonor God.
As writers, we want to create high quality work with a realism that plunges our readers headfirst into our stories, but there is a line Continue reading “Walking the Line in Christian Fiction”
When Dawn Breaks
The headlights glared through the rain. The trucker blasted his horn. Carter tried to swerve back into the right lane, but the bike laid down and slid across the wet, cliff-side road. The truck roared past him. The bike plummeted off the ledge and Carter followed it. Helpless to stop his descent, he plunged into the darkness of the canyon below. It was four hundred feet to the bottom. He knew he’d be dead on impact. His arms flailed, vainly trying to grab hold of something—anything. Continue reading “When Dawn Breaks”
The photographs scattered like blackbirds frightened from their forest coverture by a hunter’s gun. The flames reached up their greedy hands and clutched at the images, drawing them down into the fire where they curled and charred around the edges, turning black, catching fire and dying upon the blazing logs. Nina watched them burn until there was nothing left except for ashes. She glanced up at the night sky, watched gray clouds pass over the moon, inhaled a deep breath of the cool night air tinged with smoke. The smoke of her past. If only the memories could burn up and die as easily as the photographs. Continue reading “Made New”
Lift Up Your Face
Mason sighed. “Come on, Noah, it’s time for you to quit hiding behind that notebook.”
Noah glanced up from where he sat against the wall, scribbling in one of the pages. “I’m not hiding.”
“Look, maybe I just don’t want to do it.”
Mason shook his head and stared long and hard at his friend.
“You’re a coward,” he said finally and turned to leave. Continue reading “Lift Up Your Face”
Three Words for the New Year
Choose what goals you want to set this year. Decide which projects you want to finish. Focus on those goals and projects. Put your mind to it and set aside time to work on them without distractions.
“Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and he will establish your plans.” Proverbs 16:3 NIV
Show Me Peace
Christmas Eve. 1941. Hong Kong.
A continuous bevy of shots from assault rifles and machine gun fire filled the air like a devilish percussion straight from hell. Mortars and grenades exploded around them like thunder cracks of mass destruction. Bullets, dirt, and shrapnel shot through the air. Men shouted and screamed as blood poured out upon the earth.
“Danny!” Joe yelled as he saw his friend take a bullet.
Crimson blood stained the front of his olive-drab field jacket as he clutched at his stomach. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground.
Joe bolted forward from the protection of the foxhole. Continue reading “Show Me Peace”
Merry Christmas, everyone!
God With Us
His fingers slid around the iron handle of the dagger beneath his cloak and he squared his shoulders, standing between his family and the men in the doorway
They were obviously foreigners, but, from their diverse appearances, they looked to be each from a different place.
Who were they?
The clothes that they wore were no pauper’s rags. They looked to be exceedingly wealthy, but that would beg the question, why were they here? Continue reading “God With Us”