Stories about Care for the Discarded

Behind the Iron Gates. Monja Blanca.

There would be little time for names or stories that day. But there would be faces of the little ones with shaved heads and hollow eyes. There would be...

Arrebato. Repossess.

The youngest, just 13, watches her four-month old son as he sleeps. She was a slave when they found her, when they rescued her and brought her to this...

A Fine Day for You to be God

My hands felt so empty. I wanted to snatch her from the slum and be her safekeeping, to build a big house and take away all longing, to make...

Pity Stays at the Door.

After spending time with single moms in a remote town in Honduras - all hard-working women who taught their children to be honorable and never ashamed of their condition,...

Prayer Journal #3 #write31days

Saturdays are for gathering up the words of the week and putting them in basket for you. This week has found me visiting my own home for only 30...

Keep Me Naked. #write31days

Pedigrees and positions and providence are rubbish compared to the nakedness of true divine worth. (Day 23 of "Oh Hey God, It's Me" - 31 days of simple honest prayers)....

And All the While…

We mean so well, we really do. We want more than anything for every child to feel known and valued and love. And there are moments we get it...

You are the Best Things.

“You are a writer, Auntie Ronne? I love stories – what stories do you write? Will you read me a story?” To even be introduced as a writer still...

The Day I Saw “Yes” to Life.

But that day, there was no pity. Instead, I gave thanks that God would have seen fit to give her life there. In a place where she would meet...

Eleven Cinder Blocks

Today is the day of the new miracle, of yet another answered prayer - but she didn't know it would be us who would walk past the scorched fields...

Shoot like a Girl | Feed

He walks along the busy streets of Guatemala City. He has ten siblings, and the family struggles. He was excited to go to school this week - it was...

Being Chosen. (#1000Speak)

It was the third day at the Ravine School in Chimaltenango, and the air outside still hung heavy with the ashen remnants of Fuego’s volcanic fury. The dust mixed...
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