Amy sat on the plastic leather chair waiting of them to call her name. She wasn’t thirsty, but mindlessly swallowed from a crinkly plastic water bottle to pass the time. She had been there almost an hour, and wanted to walk out of the door about every five minutes. That made it about twelve times… Continue reading Thirsty Woman
I wonder who is true If I can feel her pull inside How do you disbelieve her When she has pulsed through me But can I find the mystery of what has made her move through the little tube that I will never see And could I build a muscle That would squeeze her into… Continue reading Her the Self
Our story of woman follows a storyline of love, the greatest virtue given by God. But even more, we were made to love, just as we were made to breathe. Wisdom has taught us we have been created to love one another. Wisdom moves our relationships express love to someone else. Wisdom has shaped our… Continue reading A Woman Must Love
Once upon a time we thought we were using the same words. Living in a society that loved freedom and supported a Christian identity. Once upon a time, we may have been enraptured in such a fantasy. But lately, in our modern world, we have been surprised at the misunderstandings, the anger and hate, all… Continue reading Chasm Between Freedom
Songs that make me swell with pride, as my chest booms with every celebratory explosion in the sky. Passionate speeches and heart wrenching memories pour out of every red-blooded American. Love and brotherhood with our fellow citizen, that was by random chance born on this side of the globe. Admiration and appreciation for the soil… Continue reading Not the Freedom I Thought
The same old tune. Familiar notes. A sound, a beat, a voice that you recognize. Bringing forth emotions. Connections, a child, a man, a woman. A feeling, a smell, a place in time that you can’t even remember. A space. Where the song can sing. A place that she has sang herself before. Even if… Continue reading Same Old Tune
Small round circle. Cut in to her flesh. Darker on the right side, deeper than she remembered. Edge of hair and skin, in the middle of her very being. She had a chance to examine it closely, more than ever. Memorizing every bump, every hair follicle, every pore. A slice of empty. That she didn’t… Continue reading Deformed Inward
Each teenager told their own story by their posture in the little church library chair that Sunday morning. Proud, comfortable, shy, sleepy drooling over a cup of coffee, all were present and in their own way eager to have the conversation. In our Youth Sunday School, some were just learning the language of faith, while… Continue reading Inspiring Conversations with Children
You told me the trick. It was too good to be true. I told you, forget it. I couldn’t suspend disbelief. Because it didn’t make sense to my senses, my sight and my touch and my guilt and my shame. He said, Hocus Pocus. And then, it was so. I thought it illusion. Too good… Continue reading Delinquent Magic
A new story always begins with the spirits of hopes and dreams. Leaping and flying, spinning and whirling, the tale is bound to go anywhere. In a fictional world of no consequences, the story can take shape any way the spirits lead. Creative heights, unthinkable depths, there are no boundaries where she can go. Soaring… Continue reading Desiring Demons
Cindy Koch 