“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?’
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
“Don’t worry Balthazar, we’ll get there shortly. But I think that if you keep asking the star how long it’s going to take, Caspar just might have a mind to turn us around and have us travel all the way back home. We wouldn’t be able to see the new King that way, will we?”
It’s that time when the year is about to close
Bringing with it flushed cheeks and red noses
Proof that there is a chill in the air
Covering the land with a frosty flair
“Be careful now, it’s still very hot,” announced the father as he served the goose. The mother served everything else with the aid of her two eldest children. “Now, before we eat, there’s one final thing, a toast to the Christ Child for His birthday. Happy birthday, Jesus, and a merry Christmas to you!”
“Annie, get off that Christmas tree! It’s heavy enough already with all of the ornaments, we don’t need you to topple it over with your weight and get you severely hurt!”
The sight of family around the tree, round and evergreen to show God’s everlasting love, with a star at the top lighting the way to the Babe, and nothing underneath until tomorrow, for what else do we need right now?
By Amanda Pizzolatto Bells are ringing Choirs are singing All is joyous and bright Make some noise Both girls and boys For heaven has sent its light Look in the sky Angels sing on high Adding their voices to the bells For Christ has come To bring us home To raise all who fell Ding […]
I wasn’t planning on starting a new magazine. Sure, the idea had crossed my mind, but I was already stretched rather thin across many activities… I barely had time for my hobbies.
The snowflakes fall over everything so stealthily
Like dainty flowers from the top of a tree
While candles burn brightly before a manger
Giving souls a rest from fighting so much danger
Santa Claus, good old Saint Nick, the bringer of yuletide joy throughout Europe and North America. The historical figure behind Santa is the Christian saint and bishop, Nicholas of Myra. He was born sometime in the 4th century in Patara, modern-day Turkey.
LogoSophia Magazine 