I may have sniffed, flipping one shoulder up with a dismissive wave of the hand.  “But what if I can’t anymore?  Maybe…maybe I’ll quit.”  He shot me a look.  I

I’m talking about that awful Comparison Game.  Not having enough time, space, or wisdom to dissect the whole kaboodle and analyze from whence it springs, I do know this –

I’d uncovered the general categories of my gifting, but where did they fit?  I didn’t have a clue.  All I knew was it had something to do with “encouragement,” “exhortation,”

When you write, it feels as if your words tumble out into a great, black gulf.  You can’t see people’s faces. Can’t look into their eyes.  You don’t know for sure if anyone