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they have come like warriors an army blackening the land wheat and barley vineyards devouring every leaf and branch Read more
Fall fountains of sun brimming Bronze leaves burning In summer’s dying light But not yet Her aged hands hold on For one more day In the apple orchard Where it all ended anyway Read more
His hands resting on his bended knee Remember Pounding the gavel that justice be done Throwing the ball to a little one Clasping others when deals are done Wrenching machinery to make it work Shaking the hand of a friend Read more
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I was sixteen years old, confused, and tired. I had a thousand little journals with themes like “becoming a woman of God,” “finding your calling,” and “biblical femininity.” But I still hadn’t found the answers I needed. I was weary. Who had God made me to be? What was I to do with my life? What did the words of the Bible mean for me as a young woman? Read more
A womb,the currency of the day.Trade.Hagar’s womb: tilled soil.Gentile, slave,used and thrown away. Read more
Along a desert road, beside a remote, unnamed well, the angel of the Lord approaches a pregnant, abused, runaway slave named Hagar. The young woman has reached a breaking point. Wrapped in doubts and their own agenda, her masters, Abram and Sarai, had given her no choice but to become a surrogate mother to their child. Once she conceived, conflict arose between Hagar and Sarai. With Abram’s blessing, Sarai attacked Hagar with disproportionate cruelty, reasserting her position of power over her. Hagar was abused and mistreated so severely that she fled into the wilderness. Hagar’s life has now been irreversibly altered, and her future looks bleak. No doubt it surprises her that anyone—especially the angel of the Lord—would notice her. Read more
Flame of far celestial fire, lighting every high desire, promised gift of Christ’s ascending, still a heavenly flame descending on each soul with Spirit gifting, Read more
I have known enough saints to know they fall just like the rest of us. They fail to see the mud globbed on their feet and leave their footprints on the Persian rugs. They slurp their shakes. Read more
She was one who chose the best, her Lord, and blessed the children with Him. For me she was my gray Rose from God, teaching me that to grow with thorns is still to grow in grace, knowing thorns are temporary, to be borne while letting God spread the sweet scent of His salvation to a scentless world; a world she was moved by, a world she moved in return. Read more

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