Stephen’s Scary Sky Ride—Based on Mark 4:39

Stephen’s Scary Sky Ride—Based on Mark 4:39

The sky looked dark and cloudy. Stephen frowned. “Why today?” he said. He was thirteen and had waited all year to come to Aviation Boot Camp. All the other kids got to fly already. Now it was finally his turn—and a storm came. “Ready to go for a ride?” asked the pilot, Tim. He smiled as he walked toward the little plane. Stephen looked at the sky. “Is it safe? What if we get hit by lightning?” Tim shook his head. “I’d never take you up in a thunderstorm. You can trust me.” Stephen crossed his arms. “Trust you? I don’t even know you. No offense, but I don’t want to die. I just got my first girlfriend.” Tim laughed. “I understand. But even in a storm, God is in control. He can calm it.” Stephen climbed into the plane. “He can? He...

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A Day At The Beach With Daddy

A Day At The Beach With Daddy

Ellie woke up one morning thinking about her big project. She needed to paint a giant cardboard castle for her school play. Paints, brushes, and a glittery crown sat in a pile, ready for her to start. But as she grabbed her brush, she stopped. Remembering her promise to spend time with her dad, she hurried into his bedroom and pulled her little red rocking chair close to his desk. “Hi, Daddy. It’s me, checking in,” Ellie said aloud. She flipped open the book he kept on his desk and began to read. She loved reading Daddy’s writings, and even though she couldn’t recall his voice, she imagined how he might have spoken the words. As she read, her mind wandered back to her castle. Should the flag be blue or red? “Red is a good color,”...

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Show-Offs and Screechers: When Sounding Off Is Annoying

Show-Offs and Screechers: When Sounding Off Is Annoying

I was so excited to visit my grandparents in Florida. Every year, we went down to their house, and every year, something new and weird happened. This time, it was the “Proud Screeching Fowls with Foul Mouths.” My grandparents live in a quiet neighborhood, or at least, it used to be. Granddad told me that when he was little, there were only two of them in the neighborhood, and they lived in this big, walled-off compound down the street. You know, like a gated community of one family. The place was super mysterious. Granddad said he and his friends used to run by it as fast as they could. Older kids swore there was a creepy old man inside who turned kids into animals. That sounded scary to me. But after that old man left, the residents inside the...

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Terrifying Night: Tiny Intruder Causes Chaos in Quiet Home!

Terrifying Night: Tiny Intruder Causes Chaos in Quiet Home!

Deep into the evening, I had just opened to chapter seven when all of a sudden what was a docile TV room behind me lit up with shouts and raised voices. I looked up from the page to see a little black creature zip in from the kitchen, making a circuit of the home’s main floor. It flittered around the TV room causing voices to head toward shrieking level. “Get the tennis racket in the cellar!” Auntie Marilyn cried. I jumped up out of my seat and raced downstairs. Grabbing the tennis racket I wondered what might become of this intruder. As I entered the kitchen from the basement the little winged varmint changed course in mid-flight around its racetrack. Suddenly, Dad was already corralling it into the hallway. The little brown bat had come indoors clinging to...

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Overcoming Fear One Flight at a Time

Overcoming Fear One Flight at a Time

The plane landed just within view of Tater. First, the plane bounced and settled down onto the grassy area next to the runway, and then drove with ease over to the fuel pumps. The fifteen-year-old class clown wasn’t laughing. Tater swallowed with a gulp as his lunch was flip-flopping in his stomach.

“Come on, it’s your turn.” Tater’s friends pushed him. Tater slowly got up and walked toward the plane. “He’s gonna puke!” a boy yelled. They all laughed. Tater couldn’t think of anything witty. Instead, he grabbed his stomach. He heard their laughter trail off as he approached the plane.

“Ready to go?” Pilot Bill asked.

“I’m not sure.” His eyes watered. “I think I ate rotten food.” He grabbed his stomach.

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How a Simple Push-Start Can Change A Life

How a Simple Push-Start Can Change A Life

Have you ever tried push-starting a mini-bike, a scrambler, or a car with a stick shift and clutch? If so, you might understand how I felt one early morning a while back. I woke up early, anticipating a rigorous day of motorcycle riding: 675 miles to that evening’s destination, Tucumcari, New Mexico. It wasn’t going to be easy. First, the starter was malfunctioning, but I learned I could push-start my motorcycle. However, this wasn’t just any motorcycle—it was an 870-pound, fully-loaded Goldwing. This bike needed a hill or something very close to one to build up enough speed to start the engine on a cool morning in the high desert. The night before, I had parked at the motel in a spot with a slope, thinking, “That’s the ticket!” All packed, I climbed...

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