Lynn Walker Gendusa is a journalist based in NE Georgia, focusing on local stories and community events. She writes for Now Habersham, covering a range of topics including veterans, holidays, gardening, and human interest stories. Her work has also been featured in the Tennessean.
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Lynn Walker Gendusa's coverage predominantly focuses on family and relationships, with a significant portion dedicated to seasonal content and opinion editorials. Given this, she may be interested in contributions related to personal experiences, human interest stories, or expert insights on topics such as love, relationships, emotions, and family dynamics.
Considering the local focus on NE Georgia in her work titles and themes covered (family & relationships), potential contributors should consider tailoring their pitches to reflect an understanding of the local community while offering relatable content that aligns with Lynn's emphasis on personal narratives.
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During the Great Depression, my mother told us they didn't have much but owned a cow and a hen. Their neighbors were not so blessed.
Well, folks, this is the beginning of our holidays. Diets fly out the window this week, and Santa soon flies in on a sleigh.
Just wait, the cold air is coming….. finally! Thank goodness, because it seems odd to put up a Christmas tree in t-shirts and shorts. It should be sweater weather when we hang wreaths on the door and stockings above the fireplace. Plus, the heat from the logs should warm our souls instead of the air conditioning cooling our sweaty brows!
How often do we sing or hear the hymn “Joy to the World” during Christmas? This iconic song, often sung by a choir, carries a profound message of joyful celebration.
Some Christmases are genuinely magical. They leave an indelible mark on our hearts, bringing joy that lasts a lifetime. These cherished memories, gifts from God, are to be treasured, especially during times of solitude or when we long to feel the presence of a loved one who has departed.
I have no idea what will happen in the world in the following months or years, but we should all bow our heads, ask the Lord for forgiveness, and be thankful for His love.
This week, a delightful whirlwind of flurry, furry, and festivity swept through my world.
The last remnants of 2024 are packed away, except for a small Christmas ornament I found under my sofa. I am not sure how it got there, but with all the hoopla in this house, I couldn't blame anything for hiding under anything!
What is better for our souls, country, and humankind: spreading criticism or compassion? Which of these would God choose? We know the correct answer, as any first grader would, so why do some tend to cast blame on suffering? Do we need to go back to first grade?
He cautiously walked across a field of rubble, carefully managing not to trip on downed rebar, wire, shards of glass, and broken stone. A façade of scarred and burned arches that once held elegant sanctuary windows now framed the smokey haze in the distance. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear the hymns sung by his congregation celebrating the birth of Christ just weeks ago inside the church that is no more. How quickly our joy can turn to sorrow and beauty can become ash.
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