He will tell many stories. There are so many to tell. But one story, one series of events

expertly orchestrated to accomplish Yahweh's will and demonstrate his heart, this one will

find itself on his lips more than any other.

It's a story about identity and freedom that clings to your clothes like incense,

a story that smells of sweat and mud, bitter herbs, and roasting lamb, and seawater.

It's a story that sounds like moaning turned to music, a story dark with shadow and bright

with blinding light, a story that tastes like unleavened bread, like manna, and water from a rock.

Some say it's the best place to meet Yahweh,

to breathe deeply and watch and listen

and discover not just who God is,

but who you are as well.

I'm Justin Gerhard.

Welcome to Holy Ghost Stories. screams echo through the streets,

breaking the spell of the evening's silence.

A sweating woman winces, grabs her midwife's hand, pushes again.

The pain is immense and familiar.

She's felt it twice before.

It radiates from her middle, down through her legs, up into her neck.

Uterus, stomach, thighs, toes, and fists.

Every part of her contracts, responding to the need of her struggling son.

He cannot remain where he is.

She must deliver him.

...