A bed of hot coals
is my soul.
No longer as bright
with passion or zeal
Unless something is broken
deeper still
and must burst forth
into flames of glory.
Now wholly consumed
with love of Savior.
Perfected exchange:
death to life,
surrender for power.
Apart from Father's tending
and Spirit's gentle stoke,
by now,
Praise God,
I'd be nothing
but ash and smoke.
-Veronica Boulden
Sourdough Cont.
I made two loaves of sourdough last week. I baked one loaf inside a new, enameled, cast iron loaf pan with a lid. It made the same dough i...
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Recently, I got to go to an Andrew Peterson concert at the Community Coffehouse in Danbury, CT. My dear friend and I didn't realize t...
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