How Do I Look
By Ruth Bomar
In the morning dressing for work is a monumental task for my daughter. I hear desperate sighs, hopeless groans and quiet cries from down the hall and behind her closed bedroom door.
The Woman in the Rain
By LaWanda Bailey
“God sent you,” she said. The two of us stood in a small-town convenience store in 1975. She didn’t know me, but I knew her. Thunder rumbled as I tried to figure out why God had sent me to Eva Barrett Long.
Moving into the New Year
By Kathleen Ann Brown
The 9:30 service on New Year’s morning was comfortably crowded. The church was far from full, but far from empty. The warmth we prayed in was more than a welcome respite from the cold wind outdoors. I felt it also as a rare but sweet physical awareness of my unity with all who had come to worship. The Body of Christ dressed in knitted scarves and heavy coats with gloves peeking out of their pockets.
Defenseless
By Lisa Bell
The door burst open. The woman’s ecstatic moans changed to screams of terror. As the Pharisees grabbed her from the bed, she reached for her clothes, a blanket, anything that might cover her nakedness.
Chocolate Submeringue Pies
By LaWanda Bailey
"…a cheerful heart has a continual feast."
Proverbs 15:15 (NASB)
In every mother's brain, tucked under the frontal lobe, lies a storage area called the Momflubbius. Her childrearing mistakes gather there and nag at her until she redeems them one-by-one. Guilt is a mother's burden. She spends the first half of her adult life praying she raises her kids right, and the last half grieving over things she did wrong. A mother never misses a chance to redeem herself.
