The truth is, we can’t succeed alone. We must interact with editors, designers, publishers, and others. Once our work is in print, we connect with marketers, readers, and the public. Once you identify your personality, you can discover how helpful it is to know the personality of your event planner, publisher, and others you work with.
I like pink, but on this particular September day, the shade of pink wasn’t one I’d choose—a tie-in-the-front top that came with very specific instructions that made vulnerability a mandate—not the option.
This issue is an invitation to go deeper. Beyond surface appearances, beyond polite answers. We’re stepping into authenticity—into stories that don’t hide the scars, but reveal them as places where God’s light shines through. Inside these pages, you’ll discover women who share honestly from their journeys.
By the time I was a sophomore in college, the verdict landed like a sledgehammer: decades in a maximum security prison for an innocent man. Our family, already fractured by my mother’s alcoholism and abuse, splintered further. “It would have been easier if he had committed the crime,” I whispered to myself, the weight of his innocence crushing me.
“What did you say?” I asked. The child pressed her fingers into soft pink clay and repeated, “It’s a good day to be a teacher.” I couldn’t quite agree...
That’s what we do as Christian storytellers—we plant seeds, water them, and trust God for the harvest. Christ left us with one job: make disciples.
By Stacy Sanchez Stacy Sanchez Stacy hit the ground—not on her knees, but flat on her face. Her grandson’s latest violent outburst had pushed the family past their breaking point. …
Just as photography captures cherished moments, a snapshot of Scripture can restore serenity and lift our spirits.
Doctors feared she might not live. Abigail survived and lived to 73, dying of typhoid fever. Today, we recognize that long-term stress suppresses the immune system through high adrenaline and cortisol levels.
It started somewhere between Dallas and San Antonio, where I was napping in seat 27A, minding my own business, when my eyes suddenly snapped open. Something wasn’t right. I looked up to see smoke curling out of the air vent. I blinked. Then I leaned toward the man beside me and whispered, “Is that ... smoke?”