Mj Pettengill

“In God’s eyes, we are the same, no matter which side of the fence we are on.”

My question today is, would my Puritan ancestors send me to the gallows?

I stand at the edge of the woods, observing the contrast between the remnants of winter—death—and signs of new life. Brown and green,...

These ghosts still wander, reminding me of who we were in what seemed to be another lifetime.

...trying to catch a massive waterfall in a shot glass.

At this time, I wish to share that I will have an online presence that does not require an act of God to accomplish.

If you are suffering and believe there is nowhere to turn, please reconsider. Any shame, unworthiness, fear, or loss of hope can be faced...

In the end, what haunted her in her youth had become what she lived for.

What was lost may be gone forever, but you can seek and create a new world in the space left behind.

With all of the snow piled up around us, it had become an unintended commitment. I didn’t give it much thought. It just happened.

When my oldest son was three years old, he was convinced that a rainbow had fallen into the puddle...

Yes, the shadows are menacing, but we are equipped to find our way.

We do not witness the atrocities connected to most of what we consume in our daily lives.

If you have always relied on a lantern to see, it is time to extinguish it. You may have forgotten that you know the way.

...it is essential to be informed, but at what cost?

At first, I thought it was a dream—the howling and rising pitch of the wind. Like an avenging spirit, it screeched over the rolling...

I must be ready to step into the truth. It is time to roll up my sleeves and be prepared to make my way through years of blood and guts.

We are a sum of those fragments of ourselves that we may not even remember, and they are often fueling us.

There's a patch of old snow in a corner That I should have guessed Was a blow-away paper the rain Had brought to rest. It is speckled...

E. E. CUMMINGS what if a much of a which of a wind gives truth to the summer's lie; bloodies with dizzying leaves the sun and yanks...