was the first song I learned when I was a child growing up in the Pentecostal tradition. As fervently as I sang it, I don't suppose I knew much about what it meant. After all, I was only a kid.

Oh Victory, In Jesus
my Savior, forever,
He sought me, and He bought me
with His redeeming blood.
He loved me e're I knew him
and all my love is due him;
He plunged me to victory,
beneath the cleansing flood.

We didn't sing that song this morning at Sixteenth Street Baptist Church. But it is the song of my heart today.

Big C, S&L, and I sat with my beloved Chaplain in that wonderful Spirit-filled space. I had taken me a long time to walk up those steps into that building. Hell, it had taken me a long time to get dressed this morning, I kept asking St. Casserole if I looked okay. (I knew enough not to go into that church bare-armed, but I was concerned about bare-legged. It was okay.) I wish I can explain what it was like to walk into that church. If you've been there, maybe you know.

Victory in Jesus.

After worship (which I am still too full of to write about) I stood a long time at the top of those steps, looking out onto the street, at the park across the way. We three took a walk through that park after church. It was very powerful. Words fail.

Victory in Jesus.

I sat at lunch today with my old dear friend, and my new dear friend. She asked me if it was hard (as a person raised Pentecostal) to go to a worship service like the one we had just attended. And she sat and waited patiently while I quietly cried a little, she handed me her hanky, and waited some more while I tried to explain that it would be very hard to go back to St. Stoic after such a morning.

But I will.
Victory in Jesus.