Traffic zipped behind my friend, as we slurped down our icy, Sonic slushies.  I tossed a golden tater tot in my mouth, as she explained, “Yesterday, after work, I did something I thought I’d never do.”    I grabbed another warm tot, dipped it in ketchup, as I politely countered, “And what was that?” “I washed Lisa’s feet.” “What?  Why?”  Stunned, I stumbled over my words, as she continued to share her heart’s desire to humble herself and serve our boss at work.  Well, there are two people I would never wash… Read More

Some might call me an artist, though I’ve had no formal training. One healing, happy place for me is when I dip my brush into all these vibrantly, different colors. With the fresh paint on the tip, I push the brush to the canvas creating lines, patterns, and shades, until a form emerges, and the picture begins to make sense. One of my favorite Greenville artists is the late, Guy Stevens. During an art festival, I poked my head into various studios in a downtown strip of shops next to the Reedy… Read More