I don’t like this cave I’m in. Not one bit. It’s dark. It’s uncomfortably damp. And it smells like rancid mushrooms. I feel terribly alone one minute and the next, I’m not sure I’m alone in here at all. I think I can hear someone – or something – breathing. If I strain hard enough ...
Why Creeks Dance
Because Papa God has called me to write about the red-hot topic of stress, I get lots of feedback from readers of my Too Blessed to be Stressed books. I consider it a privilege – and a responsibility I take very seriously – when I get messages from my BFFs (Blessed Friends Forever) requesting prayer ...
