Jacob’s Deception at the Well
The sun was a white, searing coin in a sky bleached of color. Jacob walked, and the dust of Aram Naharaim rose in soft puffs around his sandals, coating his throat. He’d left the familiar contours of Canaan, the memory…
The Scribe’s Mirror
The ink was the cheap kind, gritty between my fingers as I ground it, the water from the cistern tasting faintly of clay. My lamp guttered, casting more shadow than light across the parchment. It was late, the kind of…
The High Priest’s Tears
The air in Ephesus held the damp, close weight of a coming storm. Silas felt it in his bones, an old ache that had little to do with the weather. He sat in the shadowed corner of the small upper…
Paul’s Prison Epiphany
The air in the prison cell was thick, a close mixture of damp stone, stale straw, and the sour tang of human confinement. Paul’s wrist ached where the iron chafed, a persistent, dull companion to his thoughts. He shifted on…
One Body Many Gifts
The air in Prisca’s house was thick with the scent of baked clay from the oil lamps and the lingering aroma of the evening meal. It was not a large room, and the bodies gathered there—weavers, merchants, a retired legionary…
Paul Before Felix
The air in Caesarea held the peculiar stillness of a place built to impress rather than to live. Sea-breeze, usually crisp off the Mediterranean, felt sluggish as it wandered through the grand marble porticos and administrative squares, carrying with it…
The Servant’s Towel
The room held the close, warm smell of roasted lamb, bitter herbs, and the dust of the city still clinging to sandaled feet. It was a borrowed space, large enough for them all, with uneven plaster walls and the low…
The Transfiguration
The memory of that morning began with the smell of dew on stone and the ache of a steep climb. Peter’s breath came in ragged clouds, his sandals scraping against the flinty path as he followed Jesus up the slope….
Cleansed and Clothed
The stone floor of the vision was cold, a chill that seeped through the soles of Joshua’s sandals and climbed his bones. It wasn’t the remembered cold of the Jerusalem dawn, but something else, a clarity that felt like standing…
The Shepherd’s Burden
The heat in Tekoa was a dry, persistent thing. It didn’t press down so much as it seeped up from the pale, cracked earth, shimmering over the rocky hills where the sheep found scant purchase. Amos wiped the grit from…