When We Turn From Our Sin, And

There's Nothing Trite About Being Consoled In A World That Does Everything In Its Power To Deliver Sorrow.

Let's Just Say That I Was Raised By My Grandparents.

When The Trees And The Power Lines Crashed Around You, When The Very Roof Gave Way Above You, When The Light Turned To Darkness And Water Turned To Dust, Did You Call On Him? When You Called On Him, Was He Somewhere Up There, Or Was He As Near As Your Very Breath?

Cynthia Came In Quietly And Set A Cup Of Tea Before Him. He Kissed Her Hand, Inexpressibly Grateful, And She Went Back Into The Kitchen. When We View The Little Things With Thanksgiving, Even They Become Big Things.

Publishing Is, By Its Nature, About Deadlines, And Deadlines Are Toxic.