Carried by the Tide

Sometimes, in the stillness between sorrow and surrender, heaven comes quietly into view. Since Friday night, my heart has not been quiet. Three hymns have played on a loop in my mind—not from a speaker or a playlist, but from some place deeper. Like echoes of comfort trying to reach me across the distance of grief I’m only just beginning to feel. How Great Thou Art. It found me in the clearing skies. In the bells that rang when the world was briefly still. In the moments whe

“The cosmos doesn’t call often — but when it does, it whispers directly to the soul.” I never expected to see the northern lights in South Carolina once — much less four times. Back in 2024, the sky surprised me twice: first in May, when a geomagnetic storm painted faint colors over the fields, and again in October, when the horizon glowed in soft waves that didn’t feel real. I remember thinking, This is it. This is my once-in-a-lifetime shot.  If I ever wanted to see the aur

A Note for the Grown-Ups Penelope I wasn’t sure I was ready to love again. When my sweet Calliope — a long-haired calico with eyes like wisdom itself — passed away on Labor Day in 2017, it left a hole that felt impossible to fill. People told me, “One day you’ll open your heart again,” but I couldn’t imagine it. Love was joy, yes, but it was also risk — the risk of heartbreak.   Then one stormy night in 2019, a kitten’s life and mine collided. She had been thrown from a movin

On a stormy night in Walterboro, A story of rescue, love, and second chances. rain poured, wind howled, and a tiny kitten tumbled from a car.   She scrambled under a van, her belly spotted like a cheetah, a faint “M” on her forehead — for Monkey, Mischief… or maybe Magic.   She let out a tiny sound— meep. Lisa heard it. Pops heard it. They looked. They listened. And they found her.   “Oh, you poor little thing,” Lisa said. They wrapped her in a towel. They gave her food. They

"The Proud Guardian" - Hand-carved in the early 1900s, the Herschell-Spillman carousel lion roars with timeless majesty. With its flowing mane, ornate saddle, and fierce yet noble stance, it has carried generations of riders — a symbol of courage, strength, and the magic of the Pavilion’s golden era. There’s a place tucked beside the water, where the golden lights hum softly as the sun slips low. It’s not far from the fudge shop or the fountain with the pennies. If you pause,

At dawn he kneels where the tide meets the sand, At dawn by the sea, a praying man kneels — strength and love etched in every sunrise. A...