I had an interesting memory hit me today. I wondered when it was that love started breaking through into my life. Here’s why I started thinking about it. I was sitting in Denny’s last Saturday morning with a men’s group from my church. There was a lady who was a third generation Curandera who would come every time we met just to talk about how she was a “soul collector”. You know the old saying from 12 steps: if you got it, you can spot it. I spotted her a mile off. She would sit and tell us how much she appreciated the “gift” that her mother gave her, sent down from her grandmother: the ability to distribute spirits to others. I won’t bore you with the details of our numerous conversations.
I asked her if she was finally ready to renounce Santeria and give her life to Jesus. She was. But before she prayed with me, she would go back to her booth, hang her head, and cry. I knew then that love was breaking through. I led her to the Lord that day in a Denny’s restaurant on Central Expressway in Dallas.
I started thinking about when His love began breaking through in my life. Long before I was saved, I used to ride around in a car selling cemetery property with my father-in-law, who was a Messianic Jew. He played cassettes from a group named Lamb that was filed with some extremely anointed music. I hated it, but I loved it all at the same time. That music started seeping through the cracks in the wall around my very hard heart. But those cracks actually had gotten there years before.
I loved the Moog synthesizer in the 70’s. Bands like Emerson, Lake, and Palmer had my ear. And when Kansas came out with “Leftoverture”, that was the first punch against my wall. This band was a rock band with less than subliminal Christian overtones. And though my ears wanted loud synth at ear splitting levels, my soul wanted truth, hope, and love. And it got it from this album; and especially this song. Here it is. Imagine owning this on both vinyl and Eight Track tape.
So I thought I’d post simply to chronicle what happened in my blue jean bell bottomed tie dyed life back in the 70s. I wasn’t saved until after I slid deep into a sin dysfunction that guaranteed only God Himself could pull me out. And that was on March 7, 1981. That night the harvest came in. But the seeds were sown years before. That is another story for another blog post. Thanks Kansas and Lamb!