Broken Lives
Say you’re driving down the highway and suddenly the check engine light comes on. Everything seems OK; it’s not sputtering and the gauges look good. So what’s that little light…
Say you’re driving down the highway and suddenly the check engine light comes on. Everything seems OK; it’s not sputtering and the gauges look good. So what’s that little light…
Have you ever had this happen to you? You’re at a friend’s house and they offer you a glass of sweet tea but hand you lemonade by accident. You don’t…
This is my first short story. Betty and I had stopped at an Applebee’s after some Christmas shopping. All the stories in the fruit series were based on some piece…
Imagine a world without limits. No speed limit: you can go as fast you dare. There is nothing to stop you from doing anything your heart desires. Want to fly…
If you’re a gardener you know joy. There’s just something special, something extra tasty, in the crops harvested from your own plot of dirt. It’s not just freshness. I can…
This story was originally written in 2004 and has been edited for Lambchow. The Tractor Seat, another story in that original series, share the same setting although a different time…
What would a moment of peace look like for you? Mine involves a cool starlit evening, some dark woods, and a glowing campfire. But maybe yours is completely different, like…
The Life Preserver Dale Heinold – 2004 Edited for Lambchow – 2016 The Mary Ann is a sailboat with a white bottom with blue trim. She is large enough to…
It’s been my experience that folks, including me, struggle to grow the fruit of patience. We are impatient to become patient, desiring God to instantly plop it into our hearts.…
My family has been making the annual trek up to Sunshine Lake for years. The appointed time is over October’s Columbus Day weekend. Three days of camping and fishing with…
This story was written in 2004 and edited for Lambchow. This story is special because it weaves in some real life memories. – Dale Summer 1968 Johnny heard the rat-a…
Just east of our home there is a short stretch of gravel road. The grandkids call it the bumpy road. They know they’re close to grandma and grandpa’s house when…