Prodigal Magazine

The Daily Read

I sit on the ground with her, this woman in the brightly printed dress and crow’s feet from the Widow’s Village in Rwanda. She sits with a thud, because the genocide has that kind of impact–it has robbed her of her husband and her children–and she has been listening to another woman tell her story and the memories–they’ve just collided and shoved her down. So I sit there with her in the dirt, a child in my lap and the village around us. “God is good,” she whispers. Just hours earlier we’d visited a vocational school, where children–orphaned by the genocide—were learning trades like welding and sewing, and when the teacher asked who had lost a loved one to the war, everyone had raised a hand. And I’d gone around and hugged every single one, pressed my heart against theirs, because this is one thing I can give–myself. I cannot... read more

Latest Content

I Can’t Save Anyone From Injustice

She had bruises on her neck that Sunday afternoon. My breath caught hard and I looked down to blink back tears. I wanted to just scoop her up and take her away to some place... read more

In Want of More Blessings

My husband, The Farmer, is testing the waters today. Are the beans ready? Will they process through the combine without problems? Or should he wait a few more days? Harvest has begun, and with it,... read more

Love Is Calloused, Holding My Hand

The pastor is praying and the woman in the pew in front of me has an oxygen tank. She’s breathing in and out and it’s soothing, but also jarring, because you don’t realize how much you... read more

The Art Of Praying Naked

I step out of the shower, wrapped in just a towel, and stand in front of the full-length mirror. Water is still dripping from my hair, creating a tiny puddle next to my feet on... read more

I Had to Quit Blogging

I was thirty years old when I gave my life to Jesus. After three decades of living only for myself, there was a lot to unlearn. I knew I had been given a new heart;... read more

Do I Deserve Your Love?

I have a friend who flips houses for a living. He invited me along once to see a few of his projects. We walked through a quaint one-story home, with rich hardwood floors, fresh cabinets,... read more

I Needed it to Hurt
Posted by Katie Moorhead Rutledge | 5 Comments

In September my friend Steve embarked on a run he called “Rim to Rim,” as part of a campaign to help free 50 women from sex trafficking. He and four other guys ran the length of... read more

I Didn’t Wear Socks to Church

I had never done anything like this before it before. Every Sunday, for 29 years, I had woken up, put on virtually the same clothes, and gone to virtually the same church. But this Sunday,... read more

What I Learned From Almost Drowning

Swimming pools were a rare event in my childhood, but one particular pool stands out in my mind. A party was in full swing, adults flung all over the area, lounging or talking. Kids were... read more

Wondering If Dad Will Show Up

I knew this would be the trip. It would have to be. I was twenty-eight years old and my childish insecurities about what my Dad might say (or not say) had been clouding my desire... read more