My dad was looking through one of his old sermon boxes this morning and sent me a copy of this hymn I wrote when I was a kid. I must have been about 14 or 15. It was my freshman year at HSPVA. Being almost 38 now, it’s fun to look back at my growth and development, both as a liturgist and as a human being. For instance, I wrote that. Literally wrote it. I don’t write much these days…. too crippled from carpal tunnel syndrome to make that a thing.
I believe that I will plagiarize this from myself someday, updating it with inclusive language because I was a Methodist back then, liberal bastion of theology that it is. Of course, then I’d never heard of inclusive language, so perhaps it’s not really the Methodists’ fault. I give a lot of crap to the church that raised me, but at the same time, I grew, now didn’t I?
I was joking with people at church that DESPITE being a preacher’s kid, I still wanted to be a youth minister. It got a laugh every time.
I laughed out loud that I used imagery for God and Christ in the same verse, and then I was all like, “TRINITY, BITCH.”
There’s hope for me yet.
Stories That Are All True 