Showing posts from November, 2013


She made a fresh pot of coffee and treated herself to a warmed-over fried peach pie, a momentary distraction from what she intended to do. From what she wanted to do. Traipsing across the creaky old wood floor of the kitchen, she inspected a detailed job of cleaning that had added to the delay. Then with courage intact, she took her pastry to the window seat, slipped her shoes off, and sat in her favorite place with stocking'd feet propped on the cushions. No longer stalling, she sucked in a deep breath and exhaled, ready to begin a long journey of some sort.

Rachel Payne was not sure where this exercise was going to lead, but she would read first and write after she had absorbed.

It was cold outside, the sun cheerfully cutting rays across the frosty window where she sat. Rachel breathed a prayer of thanks for the beauty of the day, for God's provision, and now for Sam's delight in getting to attend Sarepta School. Thomas would be proud of his youngest, the last son left a…