Twenty-One-Day Fast When my church announced a twenty-one-day fast beginning January 18, I briefly imagined replacing meal prep, dish duty, and grocery runs with long afternoons on the sofa, a novel in hand. A spiritual sabbatical with better lighting. That image dissolved the moment I reread Joel 2:12: “Even now,” declares the LORD, “return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning.” (NIV) The LORD desires our hearts and our full attention. Anyway, a p

M. L. Hamilton delivers a refreshing and unforgettable heroine in Pendant , along with suspense that kept me turning pages far too late into the night. Elaine Sutterfeld is an anti-heroine in the truest sense. She survived a nightmare—though “survived” might be too generous a word. For years, she merely existed. Crushed by guilt and allowing her school district employer’s narrative of her failure to define her, Elaine retreated into a self-imposed cocoon. Her world shrank to

On January 2, 2026, my husband said three words that stopped time: “I have cancer.” Diagnosis: Mantle Cell Lymphoma What we believed were harmless polyps removed during a routine colonoscopy turned out to be Mantle Cell Lymphoma—according to what we initially read: rare, aggressive, and incurable. Within minutes, our ordinary life vanished, replaced by fear, frantic research, and terrifying statistics. Jay felt healthy. Strong. I always assumed he'd live at least until ninety

Christian Fiction Murder Mystery Colleen Coble and Rick Acker hit this one out of the park. The artificial intelligence angle is both unique and timely. A beta chatbox loaded with the contents of Katrina Foster's deceased husband's social media, pictures, emails, texts, and more allows it to sound eerily like Jason when Katrina communicates with it. I know people who still listen to saved voice messages from loved ones just to hear their voice again. While I'm skeptical about

January Fitness Goals: Don't Strain Any Muscles January arrives every year with the same audacity. It looks me straight in the eye and says, This is the month you become a better version of yourself. Angela 2.0. Stronger. Faster. More flexible. Possibly someone who wakes up at 5 a.m. and enjoys it. Nah. I'm over sixty. January and I have history. I know its tricks. Still, I wake up on January 2 with excellent intentions—and immediately injure myself reaching for the TV remote