Jesus Christ

By Tessa Joy McMillan As an eight year old, I was extremely excited to have a room of my own. But it was not like other rooms. It was an attic: twenty foot vaulted ceilings, exposed wooden beams, spider webs, protruding nails, hard wood floors, and a column of brick created an exciting atmosphere. But to make my room even more amazing, my dad hung an attic swing from one of the large wooden beams. During severe thunderstorms, I would sit on my swing and move to and fro to the pitter-patter of the rain. Life was good on my swing. Read the rest of this entry » Bookmark on Delicious Digg this post Recommend on Facebook share via Reddit Share with Stumblers Tweet about it Tell a friend  Read More →