Rebecca Reynolds teaches Classical Rhetoric and Philosophy of Faith in eastern Tennessee, and is a contributor to the Story Warren website. She’s the author and illustrator of the pediatric series From the Medical Files of Dr. Phineas C. Bones and collaborated with Ron Block as the lyricist for his critcally-acclaimed album, Walking Song. She lives in Kingsport, Tennessee, with her husband and three children.
I grew up in a home with scientists, so when a parent would ask me to run and get a container of Cool Whip out of the chest freezer, finding the right tub would usually take three or four tries. I might find owl pellets, Read More ›
I was fourteen, walking into the gym for my first day of high school summer basketball camp. Switching from a small, Catholic middle school to a huge county high school was terrifying, so the night before I had stayed up late Read More ›
[From “Gifts of and for the Church” @ Hutchmoot 2016.]
As Heidi and I began to talk about how we might split up this session on exploring God’s resources for the body, I found myself drawn to a topic that isn’t included in any of Paul’s official lists of spiritual gifts. Read More ›
Chesterton once wrote that the great lesson of “Beauty and the Beast” was “that a thing must be loved before it is lovable.” Beautiful idea, right? But it’s hard to believe in a world where that sort of thing happens so rarely. Read More ›
Stacy Grubb is in the process of creating a new gospel record. She has a bluegrass sound that’s haunting and tender, and when she sings a hymn, her voice feels timeless as the mountains. I got a chance to ask Stacy a few questions about her upcoming record. Click here for more info about the project and click through for the full interview. Read More ›
I loved that first year of teaching high school literature, but I didn’t love the way lesson prep set me behind on my own reading. Suddenly I had to devote long nights and weekends to organizing stories that were already familiar instead of exploring new ones. Read More ›
Two weekends ago I visited an Amish greenhouse with my parents. To get there you have to wind through the back roads of Cadiz, Kentucky — past the rock quarry where they do all that blasting, Read More ›
In those days between Good Friday and Easter morning, I find myself tracing over the bruises that the crucifixion left—not just on the slain body of Jesus, but on the devastated souls of His disciples. Read More ›
I woke up around four o’clock this morning to sit with my father in his jon boat on the Kentucky River. The whole world was dark except for a new moon that lay on the surface of the water like a child’s glass of milk. Read More ›
We lost our first child on April 27.
I was so young I barely understood how my body worked. Read More ›
School starts next week, so I’m sitting in a stall across from the stall where my teenage daughter is trying on clothes. I can see her bare feet, toes pointed together like I keep mine when I’m not sure about things. Read More ›