Hedge of Thorns: Rocks I picked rocks, countless rocks. None of them were diamonds, that would have paid for the art education I craved. I’d sneak away from the wall-building work detail and sketch as often as I dared. Grandpa caught me at it, and on my nineteenth birthday gave me a cruel gift: a
Carry the Cross: A Lent Anthology I have the privilege of being a contributor to this Lent themed anthology of devotionals and poetry written by members of Word Weavers of West Michigan. Follow the link to order copies, or contact me directly if you would like your copy signed. https://tinyurl.com/yc449y92:
Hedge of Thorns: Beginning I hated every minute of those re-enactment weekends Grandpa dragged me on. The year the axle broke on our horse cart, we had to wait on the pass in plain sight among the volcano-toppled timber, still ash-buried after decades, while the rest of the party located a blacksmith and forge. The
The Gardens of Digby Green: Hillside Cottages Ray did his best to use screening traffic as he followed Green’s pickup. The option didn’t last long. State Road 30 angled off into the countryside. Ray slowed, believing that more distance between the vehicles would be less likely to irritate his quarry. He’d have to confront the
The Gardens of Digby Green: Destination Spicy aromas venting from the restaurant kitchen stirred Ray’s appetite even though it hadn’t been that long since he’d eaten. Did he want tacos, or enchiladas? He flipped open his wallet, and started counting the bills inside. Ray heard an engine, and looked up. Whew. The passing vehicle wasn’t