I hope I don't bore you too much with my story. (Elvis Presley)

On that first Sunday, there was a sweet little boy who sang Elvis' In My Father’s House. Foolishly, I imagined a ludicrous little fantasy. What if that sweet little boy was my son? And what if that equally sweet looking guitarist accompanying him was his adoring father?

In my father's house are many mansions

If it were not true he would have told me so

I thought of my father's house. No matter how many houses I came to own or where this spiritual exploration would lead, my father's house would always be my home.

Jesus died upon the cross to bear my sorrow

Freely died that souls like you might have new life

I had trouble with the guilt Christianity imposed but I liked the grace and the hope. Hope was my middle name – ha! Hope was my real name.

But I know that soon there'll come a bright tomorrow

When the world will all be free from sin and strife