Inspirations Table of Contents
by Loretta Kemsley
In another time, another life, I was a warrior, proud and free. In this life, I have chosen another path, hobbling the warrior's traits but not his soul. He longs to be untethered. He yearns to feel the pony surge beneath him, wild and invincible.
He wants to hunt again, not the hunt of death but of the universe, where the heavens tell tales and the animals converse. It is them I seek. I will listen while my pony prances.
by Cristina Lopez
That ruddiness, laughter and smiling slowly dissipated over the course of each morning as I struggled to determine what made him whine and cry--was it hunger, sleepiness, gas, a dirty diaper or just lack of attention? I checked his diaper, held him and fed him.Still, the lower lip trembled and he looked at as though I was his jailer and torturer. Horror and betrayal clouded his eyes as they begged the question: "What have you done with my mother?" On more difficult days, he cried himself to sleep--only a short-term relief from which he'd usually awaken with the unknown cause of distress still intact.
by Jennifer Hudson
I remember clearly the summer of 1997, a tumultuous period in my spiritual life marked by an accentuating sense of dejection, emptiness, and isolation. I felt so lost, so depleted of positive energy, and so desperate, that I ventured to my local bookstore hoping to find a burning bush that would lead me to the promised land. My bush appeared in the form of a book .