Garden of Grace - Mary Bowen

“and provide for those who grieve in Zion to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,” Isaiah 61:3

Oh, how she mourns him – too suddenly, too soon,
He left her alone while their garden still bloomed.
Like one of her flowers, she’s lovely, yet frail;
The grief of her loss still has strength to assail.


Yet what can be seen in her sorrowful state
Is a joy and a peace, yes, a love that is great;
A generous giving to family and friends,
A compassionate heart, as she listens and bends
Much like her flowers before a strong wind.


The storm of her grief, through relentless assault,
Has battered her garden – God, who is at fault?
Once a dear Friend, are You now a fierce Foe
Who takes such a treasure to leave such deep woe?


Her struggles of soul and anguish of heart
Are slowly transformed into bearing her part
In the ongoing mystery, the secret, the code
Of God’s sovereign choices, His inscrutable love.


Now with faith refined in a crucible of fire,
She stands even firmer, but altered and higher
To heaven, where unspeakable beauty awaits,
And she can finally join him in God’s loving estate.


Mary Bowen is a wife and mother, and has been published in several magazines and newspapers. She currently works as editor for the North American Mission Board. She is secretary of the Christian Authors Guild in Atlanta, Georgia and enjoys two book clubs, church choir and aerobics. Read Mary's devotions and poems.

Horizon - Donn Taylor

In two dimensions, all agree:
This circle marks our boundary.
A third dimension coincides,
Yet simultaneously divides.

For some conceive the world a bowl
Centered on the acquisitive soul;
Whatever falls within the brim
Flows inward and accrues to them.

But others find the world a sphere,
Themselves at pole; and they, from there,
Flow outward toward the planet's girth
With gifts of self, enriching Earth.



Donn Taylor led an Infantry rifle platoon in the Korean War, served with Army aviation in Vietnam, and worked with air reconnaissance in Europe and Asia. Afterwards, he completed a PhD degree at The University of Texas and taught English literature at two liberal arts colleges.
He and his wife live near Houston, Texas, where he writes fiction, poetry, and articles on current topics.

ANGEL CHRISTMAS By Phoebe Leggett

Was that singing
in the blue?
Did the angels
smile at you

as they sang
in joyful hum
that our Savior’s
birth had come?

Did the shepherds
hurry forth
led by angels
guiding North?

Did three wise men’s
starry gaze
help them find
Bethlehem’s maze

where Jesus lay
in manger’s loft
lulled by Mary’s
whisper soft?

For I believe
angels sang true
that Christ was born
for me and you.

And I accept
his gentle smile
and think that I
will stay awhile -

where wise men watch
and shepherds gaze;
as angels hum
where Jesus lays.

Caught in the Act of Grace - Lochlanina Tobey

She watches Him write,
His finger carving lines in the earth, the soil,
the sand, the rocks they would have thrown.

He bends without sin, lowering Himself
to the same dust He used
to make Adam.

She hears Him speak forgiveness.
Knowing every offense, her every flaw,
He loves her still.

He stoops with grace.
She watches as He bends to write
His name upon her heart.


Lochlanina Tobey uses her degree in English composition from Messiah College as an excuse for writing and teaching poetry. Her work has appeared in The Penwood Review, The Common Ground Review, Rock and Sling, UtmostChristianWriters.com, ChristainDevotions.us, The Sunville Spotlight, and The Electronic Green Journal, among others. Lochlanina has also trained with CLASServices as a speaker and feels blessed to minister at Christian women’s retreats. For more information visit her website http://lochlanina.com/ .

Therefore I Am - Lochlanina Tobey

I think therefore I am. --Descartes

When the hills bend with trees to shape a pause, to stop the world…
When all that I know can’t hold thoughts of time without end,
vast clear seas, one small cell
or moon, or bone, or dirt,
leaves and wings and death…
When all that I can tell you is less than you can learn
from birds who fly south and north
from signs and clouds and the sun stained sky
when day first breaks …

When the ease, the cheer, the sigh,
the voice in my head,
brings peace that is not my own…
I am formed, made new
shaped and bent, pressed like clay
torn and sewn, patched like quilts
carved and hewn, like wood planed smooth
in His hands.

When these things spin in my mind…
When the hushed wind that moves crowned peaks bends to speak…
When the child is born,
and the rocks cry out,
and I see who He makes me…
When I reach that place,
I know
He is
I AM.


Lochlanina Tobey uses her degree in English composition from Messiah College as an excuse for writing and teaching poetry. Her most recent prize winning poem, The Finality of Rain appears on UtmostChristianWriters.com. In 2008 she trained with CLASServices, Inc. as a professional Christian speaker and feels blessed to minister as a leader and speaker at women’s retreats.

Mountain Climbing - Aggi Stevenson

Mountain Climbing
by Aggi Stevenson

There is a high magnificent mountain and God dwells at the peak.
All his children are scattered in the valley far beneath.
He has given them climbing equipment and a map to find the way.
Just a few will try to climb; the rest would rather play.

I stand and kick around the pebbles that drop as others climb.
I really want to make the grade but I don’t have the time.
There are places where the way gets treacherous and steep.
I’m afraid I may get hurt or find I am too weak.

Besides, I’ve seen some others as they scaled the jagged walls.
They started out so joyously but were almost broken from the falls.
Then I began to notice they got stronger every time.
Nothing was more important than for them to make the climb.

I prayed for God to give desire, like others gone before.
As I began to climb, I prayed for God to give me more.
Many times I slipped and fell, was scratched, bruised and torn.
And yes, screamed out at God “I quit!” Yet continued the next morn.

I remember times I hurt so bad, I thought I would never heal,
But there is a resting-place above, so I am climbing still.
And when I reach the top and my Savior I will find,
He will say, “Good job on the mound, the mountain was in your mind.”


(Winner of the third place award in the poetry category at BRMCWC 2009)



Aggi Stevenson is a free lance writer, recently winning multiple awards at the Upstate SC American Christian Writers Competition and the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference. Aggi leads women’s Bible studies, speaks to women’s groups and is currently writing her first novel. Aggi has created and directed a ministry for women and children and women’s fellowship at her church. She owns two businesses, one in Mt. Airy, NC and the other in Boonville, NC where she resides with her husband. She is wife of one, mother of three and Nana of nine. Visit her at Writing, Speaking and Interior Decorating at www.aggiiam.wordpress.com. Her life motto is: I am standing because he is holding me up…

Alight in the Dance by Dana Sleiman

Matthew 3:11-17 Acts 2:1-3 Revelation 22:17


My soul waits on the wind. Sweep down from on high,
from mountain peaks descend and through me-flow-
and I will watch the leaves enthralled in dance.
Inspired by your breath they'll lightly swirl
through motions, smooth and soft, yet full of life,
enchanted by a spirit so divine.

Oh wind, lend me now your spirit so divine.
Alight me with your dance to soar on high.
Come pour in me your vast consuming life
and let my body now begin to flow
in your hands, on your breath, begin to swirl
and move. Delight, my soul, in the dance.

Like flames that glow and flicker I will dance
within a warming light that feels divine.
Those undulant, soft tongues, I've seen them swirl
as they are fanned, within the wind grow high,
and in the coals I've watched the molten flow
'til I'm entranced by such intense and fiery life.

Oh fire, burn me now and fill me with your life
that so intensely moves into the dance.
Melt me until my body pours and flows
in rhythms at once earthy and divine,
and then my soul will fan and flame so high
that I'll be lost within your rhythmic swirl.

Like rivers strong and coursing we will swirl:
those rivers that give power and bring life,
then vaporize and floating up so high
begin again-the clouds-the raindrop dance
to wash my upturned face. A gift divine,
so cool, so sweet, those rivulets will flow.

Oh rain, come now and wash me with your flow.
And under soothing showers, I will swirl,
and I will stretch my arms to your divine
touch upon my turned-up palms, feeling life,
feeling you, in a wild and watery dance.
What a rush. What transcendence. What a high!

So spirit, come and flow and grant me life
that sends my body swirling in the dance
filled with your divine presence from on high.




Dina Steiman holds a MA in Professional Writing from Regent University and a BA in Communications with a minor in English from Oral Roberts University. Over the past fourteen years she has taught college writing and literature, as well as high school and elementary classes in English, Humanities, and Fine Arts. A number of her poems have been published. Her poetry has been published in a number of anthologies and magazines including The Poetry Church, The Poet's Pen, and Focus Magazine. In 1994, Regent University received a Gold Circle Award for their publication of her poem, "Shadows on the Wall."