Tara Road
by
Someone always behaved badly at the office party. This year it was Orla King, a girl who had drunk half a bottle of vodka before the festivities had even started. She tried to sing, “In the jungle the mighty jungle the lion sleeps tonight.”
“During the segment when people could come forward for prayer, anything at all could happen. Once when I was praying over a woman, she fell completely out in the Spirit. Now, we were interdenominational and we dearly loved and cherished our many Pentecostal attendees, but this was early on, and I already knew the fastest way to get shut down by the Baptists was for people to start falling out. I bent over, grabbed sister by the waist on her way down, slung her deadweight up like a sack of flour, hooked her chin onto my shoulder, and whispered with no small measure of authority, “With everything in me, I ask God to bless you and grant your petitions, but I’m gonna need you to wake up in Jesus’ name or I’m gonna get fired.” She came to a few seconds later. I never did figure out what happened to make her drop the way she did, but it was months before I got guts enough to lay hands on someone again. Another”
― All My Knotted-Up Life: A Memoir
― All My Knotted-Up Life: A Memoir
“You live in Dalton, Georgia? I can’t imagine Dalton, Georgia. Do you live in an apartment, or do you have a house with a garden?” “I have a house, and I have a garden, too, but we call it a yard.” “I suppose, in such a climate, you can grow practically everything.”
― The Shell Seekers
― The Shell Seekers
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