Author Archives: Ann C. Averill

The Kingdom of Kerry

For as long as I can remember I’ve known I was adopted, and my birth father’s family came from Ireland. But before this week, the week we celebrate St. Patrick who brought the gospel to my ancestral homeland, there were … Continue reading

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Possibilities

The Great I am, a God too big to name yet knows mine. Continue reading

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The Eye of the Storm

My core identity and worth had nothing to do with where I came from, what I had, or what I achieved. Continue reading

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The Incubator

I didn’t understand that unplugging the incubator meant there would be no chicks for Easter. Continue reading

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The Taste of Kindness

It’s Random Acts of Kindness Week, so here’s what God’s kindness looked like to a third grader on a snowy February day in 1960. ****************************************************************************** Some Sundays after church we drive forty-five minutes to have dinner with the Swensons at … Continue reading

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Don’t Compete Complete

Last February I joined an online writers group called Hope*writers. Immediately, I began listening to their interviews with publishing professionals and reading through their library on the craft of writing, and the business of publishing and marketing. Drinking from this … Continue reading

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My Friend Gloria

In a world full of disease and corruption, some people shine like stars. You just know you can count on them, and what they say is the truth, THE TRUTH. ************************************************************************************** I’d like to introduce you to Gloria. To see … Continue reading

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Share Don’t Compare

This week I’ve been consumed with writing my first guest post, so I figured I wouldn’t have time to write anything new here. But during my composition, my mind settled on Proverbs 13:12, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but … Continue reading

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Never Satisfied

Linda Leary is my new best friend in third-grade. She has a dark chocolate ponytail. Mine is the same color as Sampson, my orange tabby. We share the same bus stop and every morning ride to school in the same … Continue reading

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The Art of the Memoir

As actors in our own lives, we are seldom aware of an event’s meaning or impact at the time it occurs. Continue reading

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