Only God could have conceived this story. Creation goes bad, justice must be satisfied, the debt paid. But that debt
Every family has its own set of traditions. Some are observed at specific times, holidays, birthdays, anniversaries. And then there
I don’t have the words. Yet the occasion demands something be said. Something with some level of profundity. I’m not
He runs now. Through forests, dark and cool. Across great green fields, the tall grass seeming to part before him.