“Lady Judith! Lord Uzziah’s gonna surrender in five days! What’s gonna happen then? Will they raze the city?” My real question was “what will they do to me?” but I didn’t ask it. How would they know that I’m just a slave girl who had no part in it?
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The snow has fallen in mounds and mounds
The stillness broken by such cheerful sounds
Of children laughing and frolicking in the snow
Throwing snowballs at the fortresses of their playtime foes…
Night has fallen, over all,
Fire destroys the Cross.
Lord, behold your enemies!
Will no one be your friend?
And yet, despite my harried cry,
Among the enemies, am I.
The crystalline stars fall from the cloudy skies
Covering her and all else that in stillness lies
She looks up above as her thoughts drift into space
Of thoughts old and memories buried in cold lace…
OUT OF MANY, ONE: No one has ever achieved sustained success or sincere fulfillment with an individualistic approach in life. In order to progress forward, we must shift the focus from ourselves and our own selfish desires.
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Prefer listening to podcasts instead of reading? We’ve got a lot of different ways to listen to our first issue! Check one (or more) out!
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The theme of the Spring 2020 is The Church and the Means of Grace. Examples include Communion, Baptism, Marriage, Prayer, Scripture, Reading, etc.
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Join us as we explore the Church as the Body of Christ, Unity & Community. In these pages you will find things we all hold in common and things we disagree on. You will find non-fiction, poetry, reflections, puzzles, book and media recommendations, and a fictionalized account of a real fight with the devil. We can’t wait to hear what you think!
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The wind sent the cold, wet pelts of snow into his face, obscuring his view to three feet. Hot steam came out of his nose and mouth as he huffed and puffed, attempting to keep warm in the sub zero temperatures.
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She was waiting for a letter. A specific letter. His letter. She did not know what it would say, of course, but she knew it would contain some anecdote to make her laugh , some odd suggestion or perhaps a joke to go along with the more serious subjects he would touch on…
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“Where do we go, oh, when our prayers are answered? Where do we go, oh, when our prayers are answered but the answer is no?”Lindsey Stirling and Carah Faye ask a good question in this song, a question they leave unanswered. I have found myself asking this question more than once, as my prayers are not always answered the way I want them to be, or in the time I want them to be. But I’m not sure if that’s the right question, because the deeper question is actually ‘Do I trust that God knows what’s best for me?’
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Swirling, whirling all around
And yet melting on the ground,
Wind blows strong and wind blows fast
Cherubim:
These are nothing like the little cherubs
Shown flying with doves and hugging cubs
No, they are really so much more
With heads and wings numbering four…
: Hello, I’m Francis Eldridge from HIST News. Today, July 8th, 1741, I’m standing in front of the Second Meeting House of the First Church of Christ here in Enfield, Massachusetts, where the famous minister Reverend Jonathan Edwards is preaching.
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True, it was a beautiful spot, so still and serene, every time they looked at it, it sent their troubles and worries away, but they fought to keep them in mind. And yet, there was nowhere else to go, the lake seemed to go on for miles.
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Up in the north, the moon hangs high
The brightest light in the still, frosty sky
Whites and blues color the scene below
As all has been hushed by the newly fallen snow
The pine trees stand tall and firm on the hillside, silent sentries to the children’s fun. Their needles shake in the wind as the children’s laughter echo off the hills. The children rush towards one particular hill, the largest one, dragging their sleds behind them.
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The nasna to whom the season of winter was entrusted is known as Jack Frost, a high-spirited, rather mischievous lad with a penchant for trouble. He was artistic, to be sure, but his art was a bit strange; no two pieces of his art, no matter how similar they may look at first glance, were never quite exactly same – there was always one or two things about each picture that was different.
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What scriptures belong in the Bible? Why is the Protestant canon smaller than the Catholic canon? This article is an attempt to answer, or at least discuss these questions.
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The angel didn’t know what to do; his charge was always grumpy and miserly. It seemed that he had no joy in life, no love for his fellow man. And no matter what the angel did to get his attention, which was nothing short of waving a flag in his face, he didn’t listen. The angel took his problems to God every day, hoping, praying, that God would give his charge the change of heart needed to return to God’s graces.
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LogoSophia Magazine 