I read in Vestal Goodman’s (my white hankie waving southern gospel hero) biograpy that when she and Howard started singing they had no piano player. She was desperate to learn and sat at the piano with her hands over the keys praying that God would give her the ability to start playing.
Following in my idol’s footsteps, I sit here and look at a blank page, fingers over the keyboard, praying that God will give me the ability to type real words and real paragraphs with real thoughts.
So far, this is as good as it gets.
I think I’ll listen to Vestal for a while.