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

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...

Grace in the storm — fragile yet unbroken, the flamingo stands as light rises through the rain. No longer bowed, the neck lifts, eyes...

The First Ray of Light The storm did not end all at once. It never does. But there came a moment—a sliver of sky breaking open, a faint...

The Bowed Neck Even in the storm, the flamingo stands—bowed, but not broken. A quiet reminder that survival itself is strength. The storm...

A delicate feather rests on a rain-soaked pavement, illuminated by sunlight breaking through the clouds, while the reflection of a church...