A lot of series ask you to collect books. This one asks you to carry them.
Just a Speck of Dust and Defy the Darkness — the two books that make up The Adventures of Harvey Humdinger & Friends — were written to stay with you. The kind of stories you find yourself thinking ...
The demon in most great spiritual-warfare fiction is never the most frightening thing in the story.
The most frightening thing is the ordinary man who does not believe he is worth saving — and therefore cannot imagine why anything would bother hunting him.
Frank Peretti ...
Book 2 is here.
If you read Just a Speck of Dust and found yourself underlining sentences at midnight, this one picks up right where Harvey left off — still running, still grieving, still refusing to quit.
Defy the Darkness carries Harvey and his shapeshifting Irish fairy ...
Folklore has always known something that modern life keeps trying to forget: the world is stranger and more generous than it looks.
Every culture on earth has its trickster. The figure who slips through the back door of your carefully ordered life and rearranges the ...
Grief does something strange to a person's sense of time.
The world keeps moving — meetings, groceries, small talk — and you stand there wondering how everyone else got the memo that life continues. You go through the motions because the motions are all you have left.
But ...
Here is a thing worth saying plainly: an ordinary life is not a small life.
We have been trained — by every algorithm, every highlight reel, every bestseller list — to believe that the lives worth telling stories about are the extraordinary ones. The ones with fame or ...
We tend to read the relationships between great men backward — starting from their famous collaboration and assuming the friendship was always inevitable, always warm, always moving in one direction.
It almost never works that way.
The Civil War forced together men who had ...
Nobody talks about the embarrassing parts of faith.
Not the big doubts — those get sermons, memoirs, whole podcast seasons. I mean the smaller, more humiliating moments. The moment you realize you have been praying out of habit rather than belief for longer than you can ...
There is a grief that does not announce itself. It does not arrive with fanfare or a clear beginning. It simply settles in — in the quiet of a house that used to be loud, in the muscle memory of setting a table for people who are no longer there.
Most of us, when loss that ...
A single candle, the book reminds us, can both defy and define the darkness.
Harvey Humdinger has been a lot of things in sixty years — husband, father, wanderer, disappointment, survivor. What he has never managed to be is extraordinary. And now, with Death making itself ...
Second chances don't announce themselves. That's the thing nobody tells you.
They show up disguised as ordinary mornings, as a stranger's offhand remark, as a door you almost didn't open. You only recognize them looking back — and sometimes not even then.
Across cultures, ...
Demons, in the oldest literature, do not announce themselves. They do not appear in fire or speak in a voice designed to frighten you into belief. They work at the edges. They blur the line between what is real and what you are afraid might be real. They are patient in a way ...
There is an old Romanian saying that grief is just love with nowhere to go.
Most of us know that feeling. You carry something heavy — a person, a memory, a version of life you had planned — and one morning you wake up and the weight has not gone anywhere. You have just ...