I recently relocated to Houston, and returned to the place of worship where much of my spiritual foundation was developed. I hadn't yet settled into being back, but I certainly was delighted to be in "the house". It's a familiar place, filled with fond memories, growth rings, and good people. The atmosphere is sweet, filled with love and peace. My spiritual father no longer sits in that end seat on the front row, he's been raised up with Christ and and finds his seat with Jesus. There are new faces all around. There are friends whom I haven't seen in years. It seems I may have been the only one whose aged. But then my eyes catch the faces of the few. The ones who share the memory of the most grueling, yet amazing year of their life, at the feet of Dusty in the School of Ministry. These are those. The ones you'll never forget and those who wouldn't just go through the fiery furnace with you, they'd dust your feet off when you stepped out unscat...
Some call me Coach, she calls me Momma, and hers calls me Granna, but He calls me Songbird. I have a song to sing, a story to tell, and occasionally a warning to share.