more of the story – Barton

In my thirty-third year, Molly and something else unplanned and unexpected began to stir in me. I hid the pregnancy a while…My parents were so worried about us having three kiddos already. I know that they thought it was not prudent nor practical. But just like Molly, who seemed to be product of divine breath, songs, lyric and literary works were stirred to life in me. All those inhalations in Mrs. Barton’s were finally being released.  I taught myself guitar that year. I had to; I needed chord progressions to offer musicians as a base. Musicals and plays and all these wonderful and so inconvenient, holy things began rushing out…I couldn’t hold it back anymore. The baby was coming, regardless of my efforts to hide or cloak such. For about a year I wrote, by myself, and with collaborators of skill far beyond mine, for friends, for ministry projects, and for fun.

And then a storm struck and all was chaos for far too long…and I could not write… I could barely read…I was back to just trying to breathe as much as I could…


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