It sounds heretical, but as one who despised the very nature of reading, nothing was as uninteresting as the Bible.

Though my gross lie is believable it’s obvious the deceit doesn’t fool her.

I listen, hoping my instincts will kick in, but all that is heard are the imagined judgments whispering from the crowd.

No home, no stability, no belonging, a normal life for a third culture kid.

Silence returns a second time as the speaker and students are abruptly whisked away and my soul feels again the gentle whisper to execute.

Splash. A flawless arc draws my gaze away from the rim to glance at my surroundings.

Being chased by my dad in a South German field, my feet gave way and I toppled into the angry red coals of a dying bonfire.

The car noticed my fear starting to build as I began restlessly shifting gears back and forth behind unhurried cars.

I was facing a forked road. Continue my walk with Jesus, or go on with the old. I could not do both.

"Close your eyes, put it in the basket, hand it over to Him."

I finally told Him that, this, I could not do.

When the song ended I said, “Okay Lord,” picked up my backpack, and was about to get up when...

As the words left my mouth I immediately wondered why I said it...

...my eyes started to wander and I looked at the waves crashing around me and the water underneath my feet.

As I quickly learned how God works, my former doubt in prayer became fear of half-hearted requests.

God slapped me in the face. I had asked him to reveal what the problem was and he did.

It wasn’t until the car left and I kept walking that I realized. God was in the car...

As I hit the eighth I was in tears; my God was kneeling down to the level of basketball to show me His love for me.