DON'T MEET YOUR HERO
I remember vividly, how she'd dress so nicely every Sunday morning And when I asked why, she'd say she's dressing for Abba She was among those beautiful choristers whose song got Abba from HIS throne Her usual was " Lord I give you my heart, I live for you alone" that song, was her best I admired her every single day and wondered how God would create a being this perfect I'd go to my quiet place and wish and ponder on me as her, that's how bad it was Everyday constantly wanting to be like her, craving for the exact gift she had It was something I never stopped improving on, consciously working on me until i had reached perfection I would say I lost myself along the way, but to me, it was more than worth it And then finally, I had the satisfaction that I had attained that height Not until something happened, on a bright beautiful Sunday morning She got up to the alter as usual, to take every one into a di...