I Do Not Understand
In a dark Panera in September 2021, I wrung my wrestling thoughts and emotions into this poem. It’s a prayer, it’s a memorial of sorts,
In a dark Panera in September 2021, I wrung my wrestling thoughts and emotions into this poem. It’s a prayer, it’s a memorial of sorts,
I wrote this in September 2021. I think I’ve posted it every year since. Because memories are important, especially when they mark something significant. And
It’s a brand new website! Thanks to Perry at Plethora Creative, my new website is up and looks just lovely, doesn’t it? If you’ve been
Continuing where Chapter 3 left off yesterday… Life in the factory continued on as it always did, despite the anticipation for the party. Every girl
To celebrate Joanne Markey’s release of When Curlew Calls, we have a serial novel for you! In our last episode with Tabitha Bouldin, we saw
I almost ignored the note when it showed up. I’m not fond of notes signed “Anonymously Yours.” Even if they do smell of ink and
If our troubles looked like burdens, Our pain as bloody wounds,Our struggles, fears, and worriesWere bruises, stripes, and runes;Would our sympathy be greater?Our gentleness grow deep?If
Visiting the Louvre had been on my list of dream destinations since age sixteen. That was when I first saw Sherlock Holmes recover the Mona
Rebekah Jones is first and foremost a follower of the Living God. She started writing as a little girl, seeking to glorify her King with her books and stories…