I’ve mentioned before that I grew up in an old-school Baptist church. During the devotional this old hymn was a favorite. I spent the first fifteen years of my life in perpetual confusion until I finally asked my mama why we were singing about ‘Ray Charles.’ (Yeah, I got pinched for that one.) I was trying to explain this to Whit the other night, thank God for YouTube, so he could hear it for himself. This young man is phenomenal.
It gets even more amazing. My Uncle Bud, who died almost ten years ago, was an old-school deacon (And former bootlegger, then again we had another deacon whose nickname was ‘Squat Low.’ Never fear he’s making an appearance in one of my books.) Anyway, my uncle could pray at the altar like nobody ever prayed at the altar. Again, this young man does a great rendition of a deacon’s prayer.
I’ll never return to the Baptist church, but revisiting these memories has been good for my soul.