Author: Andrew Martin

Charity Should I write a passage about Charity? It's a great virtue, showing the love of Jesus, loving one another,... Wait, I remember writing about this earlier. Let me see now,... 2:195 - ah yes, I wrote about it earlier. The window opens, pages ruffle, the mind circles and echoes. Am I repeating myself? I… Continue reading QQ 2:215 →

Pray 5 “When you pray, don’t be like the hypocrites. They love to stand in the synagogues and on the street corners and pray loudly. They want people to see them. The truth is, that’s all the reward they will get. 6 But when you pray, you should go into your room and close the door. Then pray… Continue reading QQ 2:214 →

Union The wind blows, pages ruffle, life goes on.

Coming Home Zaid? Yes, Zaynab? Can you tell me more about these gods you worship? Like this bird? Echoes, reverberating. That's the bird my father, Muhammad, carved. It represents the Holy Spirit, the third person of the Trinity. So she's like Manat, the third daughter? Allah (Al Lah, Baal, Sin), Al Lat, Al Uzza and… Continue reading QQ 2:213 →

A Sign of the Times May we come in? Certainly, it's not often I see Jews coming to a Christian church. My name is Zaynab, and I'm a dancer with the Jews here. They needed a dancer and translator. I wanted to travel, and here I am, back again. My name is Zaid, I'm the,… Continue reading QQ 2:211 →

Life goes on Nothing happened. I was hoping that GOD would,... But my father, Father Muhammad, is merely a man, just like other men, and not Jesus. Just like me. What should I do? Khadija is dead. She fell off,... I like to think she fell. She's buried with Father. I should sort out Father's… Continue reading QQ 2:210 →

Satan Bible Verses About Satan.

Deceivers The Bible warns about deceivers.

My Father My father, Muhammad, was a kind man, a priest, who helped the poor and showed everyone how to be good and go to Heaven, to be with Jesus. Khadija cried for days. Then I had to bury Khadija, together with my father, in the church graveyard.

My Father I buried my father, Muhammad, today. I'll try to keep his writing together, so everyone can read about him. Wind blows, papers ruffle, life carries on. Zaid, compiling.