I Rode a Donkey Drunk
Those words were spoken to me while talking with three men outside of the Government Street Grocery. It had already been a good night. Before I even left my house, Cory, a musician who is very lost, but with whom I have established deep trust and sharing (and who will probably be the subject of an upcoming newsletter), had reached out to me to say, “Are you coming to the bar tonight? There is something I want to share with you.” Then, not long after I got to the Grocery (bar), he sought me out and said, “I have this new song. I haven’t played it before a crowd yet. Can I play it for you?” I sensed there was a great honor and a great trust in that, so of course I followed Cory outside where he could play his song. Cory is a gifted songwriter, and this new song was about the broken trust and broken pieces he was trying to pick up and put back together following his second divorce. It was truly a heart-breaking song. As I have said many times here in Ocean Springs: “The people here know they are lost…. They just don’t know there is a Savior.” But then, after Cory finished playing, the sacredness of that moment led to something even more amazing: