A favorite childhood memory is when we’d go to my paternal grandparents’ house and open the “play closet.” The old nostalgic toys our daddy used to play with when he was a boy were well preserved and were my sisters and my delight! There were Lincoln Logs, building blocks, books, and Tinker Toys! But my favorite […]
My seven-year-old Maltipoo pup pouts. He does. But he doesn’t stick out his bottom lip or furrow his fur-covered brow; what Domino does is far worse. While getting ready for church one morning, I noticed my cute little fella watching me sit at my vanity table and putting on mascara.“Mom never does that …unless she’s
I’d seen her picture circling the internet. The girl in the blue dress. It was sad to know such a young life was called Home. But it wasn’t until I took on a book project four years after her death that I would meet her. Writers research and explore. Believers with the gift of discernment are called
“I’m having a great day, and I’m in a good mood,” he says, smiling. Corey lives humbly and is simple-minded, yet he could inform you of news events worldwide. He takes it all in. It may seem that Corey is not paying attention when his eyes appear distant, but he is constantly gathering information to
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If it weren’t for John Wilson, I wouldn’t have experienced one-thousand-nine-hundred-ninety-nine life-changing events. That’s an approximate guess —I’m no math whiz. Someone believed in me when I was at the proverbial crossroads of my journey. He took a chance on me, giving me the courage to take the unknown road. Writers don’t get paid much
This picture has become a memory, instead of like she still belongs here, and should be here with us. I look at it over and over hoping it will make me feel like she is still with us at Thanksgiving. Mama made the best dressing and giblet gravy. She would stand over a hot stove work
Life was happening around Rich, and he was eager to capture the stories behind a lens. “I am drawn to the love story. I want to witness a couple’s love and to be a part of making their memories last.” A young man sits on the ground with his fiancé standing beside him. Rich peers through his
“God, I’m so lonely.” “ I know the plans I have for you.” “But… do You mean ME?” At 40 years old, I had suffered heartbreak after heartbreak and felt as though I was banging my head against the proverbial wall. Only this time, I was so broken that nothing was left but shattered pieces on the ground.
He loved locomotives and pocket knives. I suppose that stemmed from the era when men wore suits and hats and the ladies dressed like, well… ladies. I was fascinated with that period and listened to antiquated music with him. “When you die, I want your stereo cabinet and records…” When we’re young, we sometimes view
“Was the article you last read written by a person or… AI?” We tend to perceive that what we read is written by someone knowledgeable on a topic. But did a person write it, or did a robot write it? Someone recently shared with me about an incredible technological advancement that could make my writing
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