Christianity – Joan Spilman

Faith by Richard Spilman

Grace . . . kept by itself in the drawer of a bedside table. . .

. . . it floats on the surface of a creek, splitting fine hairs in a fit of pique.

. . . nothing but ashes in a cup of flame, everyone is guilty, no one’s to blame

Every morning since I can remember, I wake up to two things: light and pain. Sometimes, the pain makes me cry.