Welcome

Welcome to Today’s Footsteps. This is a place where I honor and praise God in words, drawings, paintings, and photos that I snap as I travel “here and there”. It took me a long time to finally embrace and express who I’ve always been as a creative person. So, I’m very passionate about helping others not wait so long to enjoy their creative talents. I want to help people find meaning and purpose. . . and He has filled him with the Spirit of God, in wisdom and understanding, in knowledge and all manner of workmanship, to design artistic works, to work in gold and silver and bronze, in cutting jewels for setting, in carving wood, and to work in all manner of artistic workmanship (Exodus 35:31-33, NKJV).

My desire is to encourage, rekindle joy, spark curiosity, and ignite the creativity that lives within us all. There are many faith based resources here that I hope brings us closer to Jesus Christ. As we experience Today’s Footsteps. . . may we grow in grace and favor with abundant blessings. Enjoy the journey—love, laugh, and learn—with colorful, calm, and creative strides.

Short Story of the Month!

Benjamin Reed  and the Bullies of Primrose Preparatory School

Benjamin Reed

Benjamin Reed ignored his dry throat, pounding heart, and blurred vision. For goodness sake, he was nine years old. He refused to be afraid. He didn’t let a single tear fall from his eyes. 

“OUCH!” he said, as a clump of dirt whirled into the back of his head, splattering gravel and debris down onto his new backpack.

“Go back where yah come from!” Drake yelled.

“Yuh! Go back—mismatched eyes,” echoed the redhead twins, Logan and Lucas.

Benjamin’s legs sliced through the air like streaks of lightning. His feet barely brushed the ground.

As Benjamin ran from the bullies of Primrose Preparatory School, he thought about when he lived at St. Mary’s Orphange. It had not been all that bad. At least no one had bullied him there. At the orphanage, he was like all the other kids. An unwanted misfit… who prayed for a loving mom and dad every night before going to bed.

Things were fine at the orphanage. He helped the little kids with their chores. He was smart. He did well in school. But he was not the only smart kid at the orphanage—he was only—the smartest kid there. Sister Margaret often told him that she was so proud of him.

Click here to read the entire short story.