They call her Sister Act, Father Ted on an off-day. Once a workman yelled, “You dressin’ up, love?” She laughed, tapped her collar, in...

They say he only works on Sundays, truth is, he works six, and Sunday’s the easiest. Done by noon, maybe even time for a snooze before...

He spoke each night on the radio. Crackling across kitchens and darkened barrios, his voice walked through walls, lingered among the...

East of Eden: The Last Sermon I. Bedside – Gospel She sat by his bedside— hospice light low, steady, the quiet sliced only by distant...

Sometimes, not all the time, he doubts. The phone lights up— war in Iran, slaughter in Gaza, climate breakdown racing like a car with no...

Once, he worshipped an angry God— the kind who answered before you even asked. A system, disguised as certainty. Grudem on the shelf,...

She limps up Brownlow Hill, collar loose, black shirt now greying— bearing the weight of thirty years spent wrestling with grace. She was...