The Covenant Carved
The heat had settled into the bones of the land, a dry, persistent thing that made the very air taste of dust. Abram sat in the entrance of his tent, his ninety-nine years a weight he felt in his knees,…
Apostle’s Letter from a Roman Cell
The damp of the stone seeped into his bones, a cold that no thin blanket could dispel. Paul shifted on the pallet, the rustle of straw the only sound besides the distant, echoing drip of water. Rome was a city…
Faith’s Heirs in Galatia
The road to Galatia was dust and ache. A fine, pale powder, kicked up by cart wheels and sandaled feet, hung in the air like a memory of the land’s thirst. It coated Saul’s throat, a gritty reminder that the…
The Courier of the Saints
The dust of the Appian Way was a fine, persistent thing. It coated the hem of Phoebe’s travelling cloak and settled in the lines of her knuckles, clenched around the satchel’s strap. Inside, wrapped in linen, was the weight of…
The Word Became Flesh
The old shepherd’s bones ached with the deep cold that settled in the Judean hills before dawn. He stirred the embers of a meagre fire, his breath pluming in the air like a silent prayer. Above him, the black vault…
The Transfiguration and the Unbelieving Boy
The memory of that day never left Peter. Not in the years of walking dusty roads, not in the thick silence of a Roman prison cell. It was etched into him, a strange scar of light and confusion. He’d tell…
The Mountain’s True Kingdom
The grass on the hillside was more grey than green, brittle under the weight of so many feet. Thaddeus, a fisherman from Bethsaida who had been following the rabbi for only a few weeks, found a spot on a low,…
Nahum’s Vision of Nineveh’s Fall
The air in Judah was dry that season, a parched stillness that seemed to press upon the hills. Nahum felt it in his bones before he saw it in his spirit. He had withdrawn to the shade of a rock…
Hosea’s Warning to Samaria
The air in Samaria held the peculiar thickness that comes before a storm, a damp, metallic taste that hinted at more than rain. Eliam shifted his weight on the rough stone of the city wall, his eyes scanning the horizon…
Sowing Wind, Reaping Whirlwind
The air in Samaria hung thick, a stew of dust, animal musk, and the sweet, cloying smell of burnt grain. It was the smell of prosperity, or so they told themselves. Eliab, an old scribe whose fingers were stained with…