Author: jolina

This post’s for you, Misty Brianne Boyd, best friend for life, and all of us Millers and Boyds who -- 22 years ago -- moved from Lancaster, Pennsylvania to Nashville, Tennessee as strangers and soon became the family that each

Unlike my husband, I’ve never actually caught a shoplifter red-handed in our store, but I’ve always been hankering to. A female version of Barney Fife, I’m constantly fingering the bullet in my shirt pocket, just waiting for the moment when I

Stepping back to survey the scene, my best friend, Misty, my older brother, Joshua, and I, Jolina, wiped the sweat trickling down our faces with itchy forearms and smiled. Above us, the sun pierced the canopy of kudzu, spraying the

As my husband and I were driving home from camping this afternoon, he asked, “Is it just this group who’s talking deep and philosophical all the time, or is everyone that way these days?”I thought for a moment, ran my

Writing my novel over the past eight months has almost run parallel with pregnancy: it's been full of joy, it's been full of pain; at times inspiring, at other times overwhelming. On many days I have woken up exhilarated about

Although my family’s rancher was built out of the same T1-11 siding my father used to build his storage barns, and the wallpaper, paint, and plumbing fixtures previous donations to Springcreek Christian Camp, it was a luxurious mansion in comparison

Today I danced in a dust devil. My husband and I were back on our property where our new house is being built, and when we looked out through the framing where French doors will soon be we saw all

It all happened because my family and I had ventured into the depths of the Appalachian Mountains to witness the redneck representation of Renfro Valley: a smaller, slightly cornier Dollywood without the drawing card of voluptuous Dolly.During the four

Mere weeks before my fiancé and I were to be married, we went to an art gallery in town. There, tucked in its corner, we found a jewelry store run by a husband and wife. They were young, though he

Sitting in our Jeep this afternoon, just typing away all kinds of deep and thoughtful things, I suddenly heard my husband yell, “Oh. My. Goodness!” I looked to the right and saw him, kneeling over a cement block of our