June 21, 2014
This Is MY Story
By Casey Tygrett I remember walking through the double doors onto the well-worn rose carpet of our church”s foyer. There were smiling people wearing suits and ties, or at least dress shirts, and the smell of perfume was strong enough to cause numbness if you inhaled too deeply. Two handle-free, faux-walnut doors swung open into a wood and white sanctuary. Inside, we sang familiar melodies with well-worn lyrics: “This is my story, this is my song.” “I heard an old, old story, how a Savior came from glory.” Then we heard about Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. And Jesus, who stepped
