Category: Stories

The sun had not yet burned the haze off the pasture when Tom Ellison stepped out onto his porch and looked across his land. It wasn’t much, not compared to the big spreads he’d known in his younger days. Eighty acres, a weathered barn, a handful of black Angus that moved slow and easy in…

There is a great gift from God that blesses us richly, yet we rarely stop to think about it—or about the joy, and sometimes sorrow, it brings. Many have spoken of it, written of it, and even sung about it. For instance, Alfred Tennyson wrote: “Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,Tears from…

This morning was cool—not quite sixty degrees—as I stepped out the front door and started off on my usual walk. I’ve always liked getting out early, before the day gathers speed and noise. At that hour there are hardly any people about. Once in a while I’ll see headlights backing from a driveway or hear…

On Maple Street, where porches sagged gently with age and wind chimes rang slower than they once had, there lived a man named Daniel Mercer. He was not remarkable to look at. He drove an old pickup with faded paint and one stubborn door that needed lifting before it would close. He wore plain work…

He still woke early. That had not changed. For forty-three years, his mornings had belonged to her—quiet footsteps in the kitchen, the soft clink of cups, the low hum of a day beginning together. Even in the last months, when her strength had faded and her voice had grown thin, she still smiled at the…

The years have changed and passed but the story remains The morning came in slowly, like it didn’t want to rush the day. Ethan, the oldest of the two boys, dragged himself out of bed, went into the bathroom, washed his face and hands, then headed downstairs. As he went, he yelled at Luke, his…

St. Joseph, Missouri – Spring, 1852 In 1826 Joseph Robidoux opened his Blacksnake Hills trading post. It became a hub for fur trappers and their trade, but by the early 1850s St. Joseph had grown far beyond its frontier beginnings. After the Platte Purchase of 1837 brought the region officially into Missouri, settlers poured in,…

When he was a boy, the world was big and so much of it unknown. The road in front of their house seemed long and full of places to go. School was out, summer was just beginning, and the weather was warm. Alan had asked for a bicycle for Christmas, and that year he got…

     “I know a woman, became a wife,These are the very words she uses to describe her life…”  Paul Simon’s lyric from “Slip Slidin’ Away”[1] opens a window into quiet despair. The woman’s story is not one of dramatic tragedy, but of slow erosion. Her life, once full of possibility, has narrowed into a role…

Ah Harold. You know him. He’s your husband, your father, your brother, your friend, your neighbor. He’s the guy you knew you could call on for anything. When you had to have surgery, he came to the hospital and sat with your family, praying, encouraging. When he left the hospital he went home, got his…