Tonight a bunch of us gathered at church to just worship and tug on God for more of Him. We hunkered down in the kid’s sanctuary because the youth-types had a metal concert.
Oh joy – Tony and I were fortunate enough to catch the last and headliner band, Black Regiment.
The lead singer shoved my Sunday morning worship mike into his mouth and sang like he’s possessed. A deep, growling sound. Can you imagine? This rosy cheeked teen with shiny hair.
I liked the bass player. He looked all clean cut, but when the music got going, his stance widened and he bobbed up and down, up and down.
The electric guitar players did the head bob-hair twirl thing. Very ’80s, but I loved it. Especially when the drums and bass got going. I even teared up. God was there.
Too fun.
Then there was drama with some kid who didn’t pay and came at security with a nail driven baseball bat.
At our little worship service where we watched a Justin Rizzo worship DVD – it’s the best – we had a good presence of the Lord. I kept feeling like oil was being poured over my head. Still do, in fact.
Working on a new story. How do you like this title? “Love Ends With E.” Catchy? No? The opposite of “Love Starts With Elle.”
Okay, okay, don’t tomato splat me off the stage. I’m going, I’m going.