PUBLISHER’S LETTER + LETTER FROM THE EDITOR
By Linda Evans Shepherd & Amber Weigand Buckley Linda Evans Shepherd I was seven years old, and I can still feel my small hand tucked into my father's strong one.…
By Linda Evans Shepherd & Amber Weigand Buckley Linda Evans Shepherd I was seven years old, and I can still feel my small hand tucked into my father's strong one.…
I didn't plan for revival. I planned for nine hours of teaching—at the Blue Ridge Mountain Christian Writers Conference. But as I delivered my Speaker’s Masterclass, as well as my class on Reaching Today’s Women, the Holy Spirit stopped me...
I was walking out of a medical building when a gust of wind swept down from the Colorado mountains and hit me at ninety miles an hour. I suddenly had a flash of what I would look like with a busted nose and no teeth. But then I heard the quiet voice of the Lord say to my spirit, “This is not a time to be passive.”
A few weeks ago, I was keynoting the Blue Lake Christian Writers Conference, reflecting on a remarkable revival sweeping through writers across our country...
A surprising number of people are afraid to pray. They love God, but when it comes to talking to him, they freeze. They worry about praying “wrong,” stepping outside his will, or somehow offending him—as though God is scoring their performance. Out of fear, they offer him something he never asked for: prayerlessness. But prayerlessness is its own kind of silent treatment...
As we gather with Christian communicators from around the world, I'm reminded of the extraordinary power of story...
Why is it that heartbreak so often happens during the holiday season? As the world sings, “O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant,” tragedy can suddenly zap away our joy. Loved ones can pass away, and lives can be turned upside down...
By Linda Evans Shepherd Linda Evans Shepherd As I write to you, my Christmas tree is glowing softly in the corner— each light a tiny reminder of the miracle we…
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.
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?”