By an anonymous author. My mother loved cacti. Everywhere she lived she planted those thorny plants. It seemed like the prickliest ones were her favorite,

Written by an anonymous author. While living on my farm, tree clippings, garden refuse and weeds would be stacked onto a pile for burning in

By an anonymous author. Although my brother Jerry passed away in 2006, I clearly remember his memorial service and the comments the officiating pastor made

By an anonymous author. “You are great, O, Lord God, for there is none like You, nor is there any God besides You, according to

As we walk in the spiritual footsteps of ancient Israel, there is much that we can learn from their story. One such lesson is that