An Open Letter to Sara Groves

Some of you gentle readers may identify with this letter:

Dear Sara,

Please stop stalking me. I know you are doing it. This is the only way I can explain how your music describes my life, down to the very detail; how, when I am at my lowest points and stonewalling God, your music points me in the direction that leads out of the funk without surrendering my intelligence; and why I have spent innumerable commutes to work and church listening to you with tears pouring down my face.

And now I understand that you are getting involved in the fight against slavery.

Copy-cat.

Seriously. Have you been following around behind me the past five years as I've traveled and seen the despair, the evil, the darkness—then witnessed how the hope of Christ rises above it all, giving peace and joy to the most destitute when I expect them to curse God and wish for death? You can't look away and do nothing, either?

This quality of yours is why I have loved every CD you've produced, since you brought "Past the Wishing" to your first concert at my college. How I wished I had $15 that night. How I mooched that CD off of people who did until I scraped the cash together for my own copy. And now, I pre-order your CDs ASAP. I am an online groupie. And I am thrilled to see that modern-slavery has pushed you to act. We're happy to have you on board. I'm pretty new here, myself.

Now, please tell me how you knew about my life now when you wrote "The Other Side of Something" album some 3-odd years ago. Still can't figure that out ... . Also, have you been handing your notes on me to my pastor? He's been suspiciously prescient lately, too.


Sincerely,
Burkinator