The Bread of Life
The sea had a particular smell when the wind shifted. It was a damp, briny scent that clung to the back of the throat, mingling with the dust kicked up by thousands of feet. They had been with him for…
The Temptation of Christ
The air in the wilderness was a dry, gritty thing. It tasted of dust and the faint, metallic hint of distant rain that never fell. For forty days and nights, the man from Nazareth had known nothing but this vast,…
The Burden of Nineveh
The heat in Nineveh was a physical weight, a thick, woolen blanket soaked in the sweat of the Euphrates and laid heavy over the city. It was the kind of heat that made the stone walls of the houses shimmer…
The Baker’s Lament
The fire had been banked, but the embers still glowed. In the pre-dawn chill of Samaria, a baker named Jared knelt before his oven, the heat warming his face as he prepared the day’s bread. He thought of the king’s…
The Judgment of Mount Seir
The high places of Seir were old before our grandfathers’ grandfathers drew breath. Wind-scoured stone, the color of dried blood, rose in jagged ridges against a sky bleached pale with endless sun. It was a land that hoarded silence, a…
Ezekiel’s Sweet Burden
The air in my house was still and heavy, the way it gets before a summer storm. I was sitting by the river Chebar, the water a sluggish, muddy brown, and the voices of my exiled people were a low…
The Broken Yoke
The air in the temple court was thick and still, heavy with the scent of old stone and the faint, greasy smell of recent sacrifices. It was a weight that pressed not just on the skin, but on the spirit….
The Whisper of Grace
The heat rose from the cobblestones in visible shimmers, distorting the legs of the donkeys and the sandaled feet of the men who led them. It was the kind of dry, relentless heat that made the air itself feel like…
The Search in the Garden
The sun had not yet climbed above the hills of Jerusalem, but the pale, grey light of dawn was enough to see the disarray of my chamber. The bed linens were twisted, a testament to a night spent in restless…
The Quiet Work of Love
The old house on Cedar Street knew the weight of silence. It was a quiet borne not of peace, but of a tension that had settled into the floorboards, a low hum beneath the sporadic bursts of shouting. Micah could…