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When I was a kid, my brothers and sisters would often come up to me at breakfast time and say, "B... can you make me some eggs? You make 'em best." And so they got eggs; over-easy, yolks still dark yellow. Sure they were just lazy - but the work they put me to made me a pretty decent egg-chef. My wife prefers my eggs as well. But I was led to believe I could do something, even small, and stayed at it; taking something God created and modifying it to the palates of many.
I'm still at it, taking lyrics and sound, and trying to make it something worth savoring. Penning tunes began at 15, just after becoming a citizen of God's country. It's amazing how tastes and smells here can make me ache for that place. And so, here I am, pouring out a song. Songs both force themselves out of me and find themselves pursued. Songs need to be heard, so I find myself singing, and the lyrics are acoustically garnished as best I can.
Jesus talked about his body and blood being food and drink. In as much as that is just as hard a thing to hear now as when he said it, I can't help trying to communicate this truth in song. He is the reason for spiritual appetite, just like water is the reason for thirst. There is no menu; no choices in regard to nourishing our souls. It's either Christ in you, the hope of glory, or you starve. That's my message.
Wherever I am, whatever else God puts on my plate, I think I will always find myself serving up a song, and hoping to find many humming the tunes and mulling over the thoughts that piggy-back them. Eat up. I'm not too bad at French Toast either.