A feeling of panic swept over me as I prepared for my first trip to Nashville to meet with Creative Soul. What was I thinking – saying I’d go down there? I started assembling all of the lyrics I could find – some scribbled, some typed, and others written neatly on legal pads. After I had exhausted all possible options of where they might be hiding, I stared at the dining room table covered with songs spanning several decades. With a lump in my throat I began to talk to myself – half complaining, half praying – “this cannot be for nothing – this cannot be all there is … there must be a purpose. Whatever possessed me to sit down and write all these songs? Why would anyone one do that, Lord?”
I stood there, tears streaming down my face for several minutes as I reflected on all he had brought me through. I sat down at the piano and started singing the chorus … “This can’t be the end of the road …” The first verse came quickly and by the time I got to the end I realized that my musical journey was remarkably similar to the story of the prodigal. Broken once again, I wept as I realized how tired I was of trying to figure things out on my own and that my Heavenly Father was indeed waiting; but not only that, he had been with me all along and was even now preparing the way before me.