Tina Campbell | Scribed In Light “Gee whiz, mister…with all this manure, there’s bound to be a pony in here somewhere!” I heard this story years ago. A boy, knee-deep in horse manure, joyfully shoveling like he was uncovering buried treasure. A passerby, stunned by the boy’s cheerfulness amidst the stink and mess, finally asks,
By Tina Campbell | Scribed in Light We live in a world where opinions are loud, and truth often gets tangled in tone. In that noise, many have come to fear correction – while others quietly accept behavior that crosses boundaries. In a world that praises being “unbothered,” many of us have swung to extremes
What if your final breath is not an end…but rather, the beginning of something far greater. A new stage of life – built upon every choice, every ripple, every echo you created. What if – what comes next is shaped by everything we have built, released, and rippled outward from this life? What if eternity
A few days ago, I found myself in the local ER. I had stumbled backwards over the house heifer – yes, my oversized and ever-present English Bulldog – striking my head and in need of medical attention. While I waited, trying to nurse the searing pain and fog in my skull – and stay aware
There’s an ache I carry…one I’ve never fully known how to explain. It’s the ache of loving this world too deeply to ever feel okay with its pain. It’s the anguish of seeing devastation, sorrow, and injustice all around – from the earthquakes that shatter nations …to the children trafficked in silence…to the blind, the
I didn’t set out to wrestle PDFs today…or whisper lovingly to a rogue skunk through a nail trim rebellion. I didn’t foresee flair or fangs. I began the day with a plan- A nice, tidy list of goals. A bit of writing, a sprinkle of housework, a cup of steaming coffee. You know, the usual
There’s a bed too small for two…but that didn’t stop a certain fluffy skunk and his squishy-faced English Bulldog brother from trying. Reek flopped in sideways like a scented cannonball, tail displayed like a flying plume. Oliver? Well, Ollie just accepted his fate with the wide-eyed resignation of someone who’s been through thunderstorms, grandchildren, and
The Truth About Domestic Abuse, Why Victims Stay, and What It Takes to Survive. You see a woman with a bruised face, and you gasp. You offer help. But what if she has no bruises? What if the wounds are invisible – stitched into the way she walks on eggshells, the way she second-guesses herself,

Grief is a silent earthquake. It shakes the foundations of everything once known, leaving behind a landscape that no longer feels like home. The air is heavier. Time moves strangely – sometimes too fast, sometimes agonizingly slow. In the midst of it all, the heart aches with questions that have no answers. For those who
Tina N. Campbell
Centerville, Ohio 45459
echoesofgrace66@gmail.com