This is a Character highlight of David.

Autumn has turned its leaves into wine. Aged with wooden vines, flavored with cedar and pine. Morning dew beads the autumn vines, where buried roots drink and intertwine. Pine needles fall where old tree branches, rot. Cold mornings smell of earthworms and wet rocks. Though the creek is shallow, she’s still holding her breath. The moths grow weak and weary searching for death. The cold beckons seclusion, year after year, as I draw inward, God warms up my tears. Words, like ri

World Communion Sunday is celebrated annually on the first Sunday of October.

This is a poem about the waiting, and how it longs often impatiently.

There are days that I’m good at letting You know how trusting in You I am. Some days I feel You so close that my heart burns as You talk...

My prayers like glitter cascade through my mind. Effervescent lilac-vanilla skies. The pink sunrise mutes the blue night’s goodbye....