Last week I asked the question every new author eventually asks: I wrote the book, but would anyone read it? Well... someone did. 😊 Then someone else did. And some of them even took the time to tell me what they found in the stories. Today's blog is about that strange and wonderful moment when a story stops belonging only to the person who wrote it—and begins belonging to its readers. Someone Read It 👉 Read the new post on my blog: https://www.steverhartwigauthor.com/blog #ChristianAuthor #AuthorJourney #ChristianFiction #ChristianMiddleGrade #KidsAdventureBooks

THE MAN THEY THOUGHT WAS DEAD IS ALIVE! 😭🔥 Mrs. Evelyn, Benita, Benjamin and Clara saw him on the road... Jonathan! But Clara just made a shocking confession: "I LIED TO YOU. I came to the hospital with a deadly injection to make sure Jonathan did not leave alive... until I saw the Great Physician." And then Jonathan told them what he saw when he died — fire, torment, wailing... and a messenger who stopped him at the line between life and death: "You were not given the authority to take your own life. Life belongs to God." This episode will make you cry, repent, and thank God for second chances. 🙏 Have you read Episode 19? What did it teach you? BENITA Season 2, Episode 19 — Written by Anthony Ijere Read now. Share to someone who needs hope today. Download all titles by Anthony Ijere at: https://t.me/anthonyijere OR Join the Whatsapp Group at: https://chat.whatsapp.com/BDs9qaNMQumKTicv7uU7SJ?s=cl&p=a&mlu=0&ilr=0 #BenitaSeries #AnthonyIjere #ChristianNovel #TheManTheyThoughtWasDead #ChristianFiction

How much does Father Tomás really know? He cares for an abandoned church in the mountains of Nicaragua—and watches over Verbum Aeternum, the ancient Bible that changes Mateo’s life. He is the one who brings Mateo and the mysterious book together. Coincidence? As Mateo’s journeys continue, that becomes harder to believe. Today’s Behind the Story introduces Father Tomás—priest, teacher, friend... and perhaps something more. 👉 Who Is Father Tomás? https://www.steverhartwigauthor.com/blog #ChristianMiddleGrade #BiblicalFiction #ChristianFiction #KidsAdventureBooks

🌿 Mystical Gardens Tale 🌿 🪑 The Empty Chair Mary had friends, technically she wasn't alone. That was what she always told herself. She had people she could call. People who would answer a message. People she could talk to about the weather, the latest news, or something funny that had happened during the day. What she didn't have was someone to do things with. She wasn't completely alone, but there was a difference between having people she could talk to and having a companion to spend time with. Mary knew there was a difference. She knew it every evening when she came home. She knew it when she made dinner and automatically put two plates on the counter before realizing there was only one person eating. She knew it when something funny happened on television and she turned toward the other side of the couch to share the joke, only to find an empty cushion. She knew it when she poured herself a glass of tea and, without thinking, reached for another glass. Then stopped. There was no one to pour it for. One evening, Mary sat on the couch with her dinner untouched beside her. The television was playing, but she wasn't watching it. Her eyes kept drifting toward the empty chair across the room. It wasn't anything special. Just an old chair with a cushion that had lost some of its shape, but tonight, it seemed to be extra empty. Mary stared at it for a long time. Then she whispered, “I wish somebody was here.” The words surprised her. She had spent years teaching herself not to say things like that. Whenever she admitted she was lonely, someone would remind her that she already had friends. Whenever she said she wanted companionship, someone would tell her she needed to learn to be happy alone. Whenever she complained about having no one to do things with, someone would say, “You just have to get out there.” Mary knew they meant well, but sometimes she wanted more than advice. She wanted someone to sit beside her. Someone to go places with. Someone to call and say, “Want to grab a coffee?” Someone who would watch a terrible movie with her and laugh at how terrible it was. Someone who would notice when she was quiet. Someone who didn't have to be invited because they were already there. Mary leaned back against the couch. “I don't want to be needy,” she whispered. The room offered no answer. The loneliness tightened around her heart. The loneliness engulfed her and tears formed in her eyes. Mary closed her eyes, curled into a fetal ball, and allowed herself to cry. When she opened them again, she wasn't in her living room. She was sitting in a beautiful garden beneath a giant tree. The mystical garden stretched around her in the soft evening light. Flowers moved gently in a breeze she couldn't feel. Somewhere nearby, water trickled over smooth stones. Mary didn't know how she had gotten there, but she wasn't frightened. She had been to this garden before. Some people claimed it was magical. She looked up at the giant tree. “You know why I'm here, don't you?” The leaves rustled. Mary smiled sadly. “I'm so lonely.” The tree remained silent. Mary pulled her knees toward herself. “I know what everyone says. I know I do have people in my life. I do have friends. I know I should be grateful. I really am grateful.” She swallowed. “But I want someone...” The words finally came out. “I want someone to share my life with.” A breeze moved through the branches. Mary looked up. “Can you help me?” The tree did not answer. Mary waited. “Can you find someone for me?” Still nothing. Her smile disappeared. “It's silly, but I thought that since I just appeared here, maybe you had some magic that could help me.” The branches swayed gently. Mary looked away. “Apparently not.” She stood and began walking through the garden. At first, she noticed all the companionship around her. She saw two birds that sat together on a branch. A pair of rabbits chased one another through the flowers. A butterfly rested on another butterfly's wings. Even the bees seemed to have somewhere to go and someone waiting for them. Mary stopped beside the pond. “Even the animals have someone.” Her voice cracked. “And I don't.” She sat beside the water. For a long time, she didn't notice anything different. Then something strange began. The garden seemed to change. Mary watched as a bee landed on a flower. The flower gave it the nectar that it searched for. A bird flew down to the pond where it found a worm in the soft soil and water to quench is thirst. A fruit fell from one of the branches and disappeared into the soil where the seed would grow. Mary watched quietly. She finally began to understand. The garden wasn't showing her perfect lives. This wasn't exactly the companionship she longed for. What it was showing her was a different kind of companionship. It showed her the connections that are made in all life. Little ones. Simple ones. Necessary ones. Then its leaves shimmered and Mary heard a whisper in her heart. "You are not wrong for wanting companionship.'' Mary's eyes filled with tears. People had told her it was good to be independent. They had told her to enjoy her own company. They had told her she didn't need anyone, but nobody had told her that wanting someone beside her wasn't a weakness. Mary rested her hand against the tree. “I don't want someone to rescue me.” The leaves rustled. “I just don't want to do everything alone. I just need a friend to do things with.” The tree remained silent, but somehow Mary understood. There was a difference between being incomplete and being lonely. She could be whole and still want someone to share some of the things in her life with. She could be grateful and still wish for a little companionship. She could love herself and still want someone sitting in the empty chair. Mary wiped her eyes. “Then why can't you find someone for me?” The tree's branches slowly moved toward the ground. One small branch pointed toward the garden gate. Mary frowned. “You want me to leave?” At first she was hurt, but then she understood. The garden couldn't choose another person's heart. It couldn't manufacture friendship. It couldn't make someone walk into her life. It couldn't promise that tomorrow she would meet the person she'd been waiting for. But it could give her somewhere to come back to when the loneliness became too heavy. It could remind her that loneliness wasn't proof that she was forgotten. Companionship had many different forms. Perhaps most importantly, it reminded her not to close her heart simply because she had been disappointed before. Mary stood. The tree's leaves shimmered. “I guess I just stopped trying.” She looked toward the garden gate. “Because every time I tried, I got hurt.” The garden grew very still. Mary took a deep breath. “Maybe I decided it was easier to do things alone, preferring to be lonely than to be hurt. That's not the same thing as being okay, is it?” The tree answered with a gentle shower of golden leaves. Mary laughed through her tears. “No,” she whispered. “It isn't.” When Mary returned home, the television was still playing. The empty chair was still there. Nothing about her house had changed. But Mary had. She looked at the chair. For years, she had thought the empty chair was proof that nobody was coming, no one wanted to be with her. Tonight, she saw it differently. It was simply an empty chair waiting to be filled. The next morning, Mary picked up her phone. She stared at the screen for several minutes. If she wanted a friend, she should make an effort. There was a woman she occasionally talked to. They had always talked easily, but Mary had never asked her to do anything outside their usual conversations. Her finger hovered over the call button. Then she pressed it. “Hi,” Mary said when the woman answered. “I was wondering…” She almost stopped. She fears that the woman would be too busy. That she would think Mary was being strange. But Mary continued. “Would you like to have coffee with me sometime?” There was a pause. Then came the answer. “I'd love to.” Mary smiled. It wasn't a miracle. It wasn't the end of her loneliness. It wasn't the person she had dreamed about finding for a relationship. It was simply coffee and the beginning of a new friendship. Sometimes the beginnings of any kind of relationship are very small. Sometimes they sound like: Would you like to come with me? Would you want to watch a movie? Do you want to get coffee? Would you like to sit here? Mary still visited the garden. She still had lonely evenings. There were still nights when she looked at the empty chair and wished someone were sitting in it, but now she wouldn't allow the loneliness to tightened around her heart. She knew she could ask for simple companionship when she felt lonely and she could always come here for comfort and peace. Wanting someone beside you does not make you weak. Being lonely does not mean you are forgotten. An empty chair is not a threat that no one will ever come. Sometimes… It is simply a chair waiting for a story that hasn't been written yet. Seed from the Garden “God setteth the solitary in families.” — Psalm 68:6 Ecclesiastes 4:9-12 Two people are better than one because they can help each other up. God sees the lonely places we don't always know how to explain. He doesn't shame us for wanting companionship. While He may not answer that longing in the way or timing we expect, we can trust that our loneliness does not mean we have been forgotten. Sometimes the first step isn't finding the person we've been waiting for. Sometimes it's simply finding the courage to open the door to allow people in. #christianwriter #christianfiction #christianfantasy #stacyfrantz #MysticalGardens

🌿 Mystical Gardens Tale 🌿 The Cooling Waters Jill had decided that summer had officially become personal. The heat had been unbearable for days. Not the pleasant kind of summer warmth that made people want to sit outside with a cold drink. This was the kind of heat that seemed to crawl beneath your skin and stay there. Jill woke up irritated. She stepped outside and immediately began sweating. “Wonderful,” she muttered. “It's going to be another one of those days.” Her car wouldn't start. “Of course it won't.” The air conditioner at work wasn't working properly. “Of course it isn't.” Someone had left a door open, letting hot air into the building. “Who does that?” Then someone accidentally bumped into her in the hallway. “Watch where you're going!” The woman stopped and stared at Jill. “I'm sorry.” Jill walked away without answering. She didn't notice the hurt look on the woman's face. By lunchtime, Jill was ready to scream. The restaurant was crowded. Someone's child was crying. A man at the next table was talking too loudly. The waitress brought Jill the wrong drink. “This isn't what I ordered.” “I apologize. I'll get you another one.” “And could you please get it right this time?” The waitress's smile disappeared. Jill didn't notice. Or perhaps she did, but she was too irritated to care. Everything seemed to bother her. A phone ringing. A dog barking. Someone chewing too loudly. A car driving too slowly. A person looking at her for what Jill was certain was too long. “What are you looking at?” she snapped. The man quickly looked away. By late afternoon, Jill was exhausted. And angry. Mostly angry. She couldn't even explain why anymore. All she knew was that everything was getting on her nerves. Then, on her way home, Jill saw something she hadn't seen before. A narrow path between two old trees. It hadn't been there yesterday. Jill stopped. She stared at it. Beyond the trees was a faint green glow. Normally, she would have walked away. But today she was hot, tired, frustrated, and completely out of patience and whatever was there had to be better than here, so she stepped onto the path. Within moments, the world changed. The heat disappeared. Jill stopped walking. A cool breeze brushed across her face. She closed her eyes. “Oh…” She hadn't realized how badly she needed that. The garden stretched out before her. Tall trees formed a canopy overhead. Little streams wound between moss-covered stones. Flowers opened beneath the shade, and somewhere nearby, water trickled over smooth rocks. There were no car horns. No ringing phones. No barking dogs. No crying children. No voices demanding anything from her. Just quiet. Beautiful, peaceful quiet. Jill sat beside the stream and dipped her hands into the cool water. For the first time all day, her shoulders relaxed. She took a deep breath. Then another. And suddenly, something uncomfortable happened... She began remembering. The woman in the hallway. “Watch where you're going!” The waitress. “Could you please get it right this time?” The man at the restaurant. “What are you looking at?” Her coworker. “Who does that?” One memory after another came rushing back. Jill lowered her head. “Oh no.” She hadn't simply been having a bad day. She had been handing that bad day to everyone around her. She had taken her frustration, her discomfort, and her exhaustion and thrown them at people who hadn't caused any of it. The garden remained silent. But Jill had the strange feeling that the giant tree at the center of the garden was watching her. “I was miserable,” she whispered. A leaf drifted down beside her. Jill picked it up. “I was hot. I was tired. Everything was going wrong.” She sighed. “But that doesn't mean I had to make everybody else miserable too.” The breeze moved gently through the branches. Jill smiled sadly. “You know what's worse?” She looked toward the path. “I don't even know if any of them deserved an apology from me.” She paused. “Of course they do.” For the first time that day, Jill laughed at herself. She had spent hours thinking everyone else was the problem. But the garden had given her something the heat never could. Perspective. Jill stood. “I can't undo what I said.” She looked toward the great tree. “But I can go back and do better.” The garden seemed to grow a little brighter. Jill stepped onto the path. The heat returned when she reached the other side. But something inside her had changed. The temperature hadn't changed. Her circumstances hadn't changed. Her car was still broken. The air conditioner still wasn't working. Tomorrow might be just as hot. But Jill wasn't going to let the heat decide who she was. The next morning, she found the woman from the hallway. “I'm sorry,” Jill said. The woman looked surprised. “For yesterday. You didn't deserve the way I spoke to you.” Then Jill found the waitress. She apologized there too. And when someone accidentally bumped into her later that afternoon, Jill felt irritation rising inside her. She opened her mouth. Then stopped. She took a breath. “It's okay,” she said. The person smiled. And Jill smiled back. That evening, Jill returned to the garden. She sat beneath the great tree with her feet beside the cool stream. “Thank you,” she whispered. She finally understood something the garden had been trying to teach her. Sometimes we are uncomfortable. Sometimes we are tired. Sometimes the world seems to be working against us. And sometimes we have every reason to be frustrated. But our circumstances may explain why we're hurting without giving us permission to hurt someone else. The garden could cool Jill's skin. But only she could choose to cool the anger in her heart. And that choice was worth far more than a cool breeze. Seed from the Garden “A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.” — Proverbs 15:1 You may not be able to control the heat, the noise, the traffic, the broken air conditioner, or the things other people do. But you can choose what you do with the frustration those things create inside you. Before you hand your bad day to someone else, stop. Breathe. Cool down. And remember: They may not be the reason you're hurting. Don't make them pay for it. #christianwriter #christianfiction #christianfantasy #stacyfrantz #MysticalGardens

🐞 Miss Tillia’s Garden 🌳 🎂 The Birthday Girl Who Forgot to Have Fun 🥳 🎉 Lily had been waiting for her birthday party for what felt like a hundred years. Actually, it had only been eleven months and twenty-nine days. But when you are a child waiting for your birthday, eleven months and twenty-nine days is practically forever. And today was finally the day! Lily had planned everything. There were colorful balloons tied to the garden fence, flowers arranged around the picnic tables, games waiting to be played, and a beautiful birthday cake sitting safely beneath a little cake cover. She had even made a special sign. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LILY! She stood back and admired everything. “Perfect!” Then she frowned. She walked over to the balloons. “Are you all tied tightly?” She tugged one. The balloon bounced. “Good.” She checked the cake. “Still there.” She checked the games. “Still there.” Miss Tillia watched as Lily checked everything in the garden. “Lily,” she called, “your party doesn't begin for another hour.” “I know!” “You've checked everything three times.” “Only three?” Miss Tillia laughed. Lily giggled and went back to work. Soon the first guests arrived. “Happy birthday!” Each of them handed her a present which she immediately put on the table she had set up just for presents. “Thank you!” Lily hugged her friends. Then looked over their shoulders. “Did everyone get their party hat?” She handed one to each child. “Okay! Now the games are over here." She watched as all her friends began to play. "When we're done playing, we can enjoy a snack. The food is over there. Don't forget the lemonade." Everyone looked at the table with little sandwiches and chips. "And we're going to have cake after presents, but don't touch the cake yet because—” She stopped. All of her friends were staring at her. “What?” “You're not playing.” “Of course I am!” “No, you've been telling everybody else what to do, but you haven't been joining us.” Lily looked around. “Oh.” She hurried over to the first game. “Is everybody ready?” They played a beanbag toss. Lily watched carefully. “That's one point!” She straightened the beanbags. “That's two!” She picked up one that had rolled away. “Okay, everybody throw again!” She noticed one of the balloons had come loose. “Oh no!” She ran after it. She tied it back up. Then she noticed the lemonade pitcher was getting empty. She filled it. Then she noticed one of the children had dropped a napkin. She picked it up. Then she checked the cake. Then the presents. Then the games. Then the balloons. Then the cake again. Miss Tillia's leaves began to wiggle. Not from the wind. From laughter. “Lily,” Miss Tillia said, “when was the last time you had fun?” Lily blinked. “I am having fun.” “Are you?” “Yes.” “Then why haven't I seen you smile?” Lily opened her mouth. Nothing came out. She looked around the garden. Everyone was laughing. Her friends were playing. Someone had put a party hat on a garden statue. Two children were racing to see who could carry the most balloons. And one little boy was trying very hard to eat a cookie without getting the powdered sugar on his nose. He failed. Everybody laughed. Lily smiled. Then she looked at the cake. “The cake!” She started toward it. Miss Tillia's branches suddenly stretched across the path. Lily stopped. “Miss Tillia?” “You forgot something.” “What?” “Your birthday.” “My birthday is right here!” “No, dear. Your party is right here.” Miss Tillia's leaves fluttered. “But the birthday girl seems to be missing.” Lily looked around. “I’m right here!” Miss Tillia shook her branches. “Nope.” Lily giggled. “What do I have to do to find her?” Miss Tillia pointed one branch toward the children. “Stop checking.” Lily looked at the party. “But what if something goes wrong?” “Something probably will.” Lily's eyes widened. “What?!” Miss Tillia laughed. “That's what makes parties interesting!” Just then—POP! A balloon burst. Everyone jumped. Then they laughed. A little later, someone spilled lemonade. Everyone grabbed napkins. Then they laughed. One of the games didn't work the way Lily had planned. So the children invented a new game. And it was much sillier than Lily's original one. Lily finally stopped trying to fix everything. She ran. She played. She laughed. She got frosting on her nose. She accidentally stepped on a balloon and jumped when it popped. She even wore the party hat that had somehow ended up upside down. For the first time that day, she wasn't checking the cake. She wasn't checking the presents. She wasn't checking the games. She wasn't checking whether everyone else was having fun. She was having fun too. When it was finally time for cake, Lily stood beside Miss Tillia and looked around at her friends. “This isn't exactly how I planned it.” Miss Tillia's leaves rustled. “No.” Lily smiled. “It's better.” Miss Tillia's leaves danced happily. “And what did you learn today, birthday girl?” Lily thought for a moment. “That making everything perfect isn't as important as being there to enjoy it.” Miss Tillia laughed. “And?” Lily grinned. “And sometimes the best parts of a party are the things that go wrong!” Just then, the little boy with the frosting-covered nose sneezed. ACHOO! A tiny puff of powdered sugar flew through the air. Everyone laughed. Lily laughed the hardest. Miss Tillia's branches swayed above them. Because sometimes the happiest memories aren't the ones where everything goes perfectly. They're the ones where everyone is together... laughing, playing, making a mess... and enjoying the moment they were given. And Lily? She finally remembered that she wasn't just the one who planned the party. She was the birthday girl. And birthday girls are supposed to have fun too! #misstilliasgarden #christianwriter #christianfiction #christianfantasy #stacyfrantz

I was honored to discover that Mateo and the Secrets of the Eternal Word was selected as a Daily Finds Featured Title on July 27. Seeing the book featured alongside bestselling Christian authors Ted Dekker & Bill Bright and award-winning biblical fiction author Mesu Andrews was an unexpected encouragement. Every author hopes their work will find readers. Moments like this remind me that Mateo is beginning to do just that. If you'd like to learn more about the story, read reviews, or explore the world of Mateo, I'd love to invite you to visit: https://www.steverhartwigauthor.com/new-page-2 Rediscover Bible History Like Never Before... Through the Eyes of Mateo. #MateoAndTheSecretsOfTheEternalWord #ChristianFiction #BiblicalFiction #BibleAdventure #FaithBasedBooks #ChristianBooks #MiddleGradeBooks #YoungAdultBooks #BookLovers #AmReading #IndieAuthor #SteveRHartwig

Did you ever wish you could witness Bible history with your own eyes? That question became the inspiration for Mateo and the Secrets of the Eternal Word. Through the eyes of a twelve-year-old boy from Nicaragua, readers journey into the great events of Bible history—not merely to observe history, but to discover the unchanging truth of God's Word. My prayer is that this story encourages young people and families to open their Bibles with fresh wonder. Have you ever imagined what it would have been like to witness one of the great events of Scripture? #ChristianFiction #BibleHistory #YoungReaders #FaithBasedBooks #MateoBook

🐞 Miss Tillia's Garden 🌳 😩 The Worry Weeds One sunny morning, the children hurried into Miss Tillia's Garden, but nobody was laughing. Emma had received sad news before breakfast, and no matter what she did, she couldn't stop thinking about it. "I wish my thoughts would leave me alone," she sighed. Miss Tillia's leaves rustled softly. "Come over here by me." She gave the children a place to sit by a little patch of the garden that had become covered with strange weeds. The funny thing was, the more everyone stared at the weeds, the faster they grew. Soon they were taller than the children! "Make them stop!" cried Ben. "You can't shrink worry weeds by staring at them," Miss Tillia said with a warmly. "You shrink them by planting something better." She dropped a tiny glowing seed next to reach child. "What kind of seeds are these?" Emma asked. "These are thankful seeds. Say at least one thing you are thankful for when you plant it." The children planted them one by one. "I'm thankful for my family." "I'm thankful for my puppy." "I'm thankful for sunshine." Emma thought for a long time before whispering, "I'm thankful that God is with me... even today." The little seed glowed brighter than all the others. As each thankful flower bloomed, the worry weeds became smaller and smaller. They didn't disappear completely, but they no longer covered the whole garden. Soon butterflies returned, birds began to sing, and Emma noticed she could finally smile again. Miss Tillia wrapped her branches around the children. "Sad news is real," she said gently. "God never asks us to pretend it didn't happen. But when we remember He is still with us and look for the good He has already given us, worry doesn't get to be the biggest thing in our hearts." Worries grow when they become all we look at. Gratitude doesn't erase our problems, but it reminds us that God is still walking beside us through them. "Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." — Philippians 4:6 #misstilliasgarden #christianwriter #christianfiction #christianfantasy #stacyfrantz #MissTillia

🐞 Miss Tillia's Garden 🌳 💥 Celebration 🎆 Before fireworks ever lit the evening sky, Miss Tillia had already begun preparing a celebration. Tiny flowers unfolded one by one until the garden was covered in brilliant red, white, and blue blossoms. Fireflies drifted through the branches, their lights twinkling like little stars. Even the stream shimmered with ribbons of color that danced across the water. Families gathered beneath Miss Tillia's branches with blankets and baskets full of food. Children laughed as butterflies with wings like tiny flags fluttered around them. Music from the birds, frogs, and crickets floated through the garden, and for a while everyone simply enjoyed being together. Danny smiled as he watched the celebration. "It's beautiful," he whispered. "I've never seen anything like it." Miss Tillia's leaves rustled gently. "Many people celebrate the freedom of a nation," she said. "It is a wonderful gift. But there is another freedom that many forget to celebrate." Danny looked up. "The freedom you mean, is it the freedom found in Jesus?" Her branches swayed. "A country may give people freedom to speak, to worship, and to live. But only Christ can set a heart free from fear, guilt, bitterness, and sin. One freedom changes where you live. The other changes who you become." As darkness settled over the garden, thousands of glowing blossoms lifted into the air like living fireworks. They burst silently overhead into showers of sparkling petals that drifted gently back to the earth without smoke, noise, or fear. The children gasped in amazement. Some of the smaller ones picked the petals from the air before they hit the ground and stopped sparkling. Danny watched the glowing petals fall around him and quietly thanked God—not only for the blessings of his country, but for the Savior who had given him a freedom no one could ever take away. 🌳 Whispers from the Garden: We should always be thankful for the freedoms we enjoy, but never forget the greatest freedom of all—the one Jesus purchased for us. Nations can protect our rights, but only Christ can set our hearts truly free. "So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed." — John 8:36 #MissTillia #children #christianwriter #christianfiction #christianfantasy #stacyfrantz