A FISHING TALE OF ANOTHER KIND And the Lord said, “Go up, for tomorrow I will deliver them into your hand.” It had been some time since I had heard a direct word from God in my spirit. After all the prison doors had been shut for months, no sermons or teachings were required, and I found myself overly comfortable with my quiet time nuggets. But this morning was different. Something was stirring. A curiosity of His thoughts towards His girls behind bars. So I asked. A rare occasion for me. Now don’t get twisted, it is simply my asking that is rare, not our fellowship. Years of singleness has made room for a level of intimacy not unlike an old married couple who finishes each other’s sentences. My question, “What do you call them?” No doubt that may sound odd, but not to my tribe who recognize it as a constant before each outreach event. I want to know who is in the room. I want to know what themes are present. What pain will be confronted? I want to see them individually and collec
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.