The Songs That Brought Me Here

I’ve been hard at work on the next 1986 feature—it’s a lengthy article about one of the most important executives of the 1980s and 1990s (so, of course, it highlights some of the incredible albums he helped make possible)—but there’s also been a lot of life going on that connects to everything I’ve been writing about here.

Five years ago, when I launched this newsletter, we were in the middle of the pandemic. For our household, that was a blessing. We had been struggling to find time to create. An eight-hour workday is to be expected, but when you add two hours or more of commuting, and then cooking, cleaning, and self-care, it doesn’t leave much time for anything else. The pandemic helped me restructure my life, and this newsletter was born out of that time.

The newsletter has produced incredible new opportunities for me. I started producing reissues and writing liner notes, working with artists to help create and maintain their archives, and taking on several freelance writing assignments, all while slowly (but surely) working to finish the New York Community Choir book. In the process, I began a second book with Reba Rambo. I did all of this while holding a demanding full-time job. All in a day’s work, right?

In the last three years, in particular, other parts of my life have re-emerged as well. I was ordained in 2023 (and again late last year) at the same time that my voice as a singer began to reawaken. My own musical expression has been dormant since I recorded my last album in 2013, but last year, after my 50th Birthday Testimony Service, I quietly went to work on a new album of songs that have carried me through these 50 years.

Simultaneously, I was asked to conduct a monthly song service (which we call Testimony Service) every First Friday at Sangtuary, a music-centered, non-denominational church informed by the theology of the social gospel. The services have been chicken noodle soup for my soul. For nearly a decade in my youth, I watched my godmother, Patricia Morgan, at New Covenant Holiness Church pull congregational songs and hymns from her memory, always knowing what songs were right for the moment. She was the quintessential songcatcher. She loved a good song and knew how to internalize it in the most personal ways. She was never going through the motions. The words mattered to her, and she always told me, “If you don’t mean it, don’t sing it.”

At 50, I see how much of that settled in me. How many of those songs rest with me. And all the ways they’ve become personal—part of my innermost being. We were honored to render a Testimony Service down at the National Museum of African American Music last Sunday. Below you can hear a portion of that service—a medley I led of what we used to call “the gospel pearls.”

Two weeks ago, Sangtuary announced that I’d taken the pastorate of the fellowship. There have been multiple times through the years when this opportunity was presented to me. I always turned those opportunities down until now.

“Pastor” is a strange word in 2026. We read stories about leadership gone wrong multiple times a day. The mechanisms of money and power are far too dominant in spiritual environments these days. History shows that they always have been.

The best pastor model I’ve ever had was also from my years as a teenager and young adult at New Covenant Holiness Church. Pastor Abraham Dancil was low-key. No ego. No desire to control anyone. No drive to be a star. But trust—if something did, indeed, get out of order, he knew how to handle it.

He was a realist. He certainly let the Spirit move freely throughout our little church, but he also didn’t let anyone fall under any delusions. When congregants thought a woman was possessed and started an exorcism, he quickly told them to stop.

“She’s high. Not demon possessed. Stop all that fuss.”

Those kinds of moments shaped me. When I was 22, I left New Covenant to go to a younger congregation led by his daughter.

“You’ve been a great member,” he told me. “If you decide you want to come back, the door is always open.”

I have no doubt he knew I was not making a great decision—but he gave me the freedom to make it with love. That is a priceless gift.

So, as I’m in the midst of this life expansion, I’ve been reflecting on these things as we work to imagine what Sangtuary will grow into. My hope is that we will become a community centered in free will—a place people come to because they want to be there, not because they feel obligated or guilted into being present.

I remember, in my earliest days at New Covenant, running late (in the beginning I had to sneak out of my grandparents’ church and catch a ride with a friend) and hearing the music from the street as I approached the block, then running to the building, not wanting to miss a single second of what was happening inside. That’s what I hope Sangtuary can be for people.

God’s Music Is My Life is a part of that vision. While many of you may not live near Nashville and be able to participate at Sangtuary, we are also in community here, bound together by faith-based music and the ways it has impacted our lives.

I began this newsletter in 2021 with fewer than 100 subscribers, and it has grown to just under 2,000, which is far more people than I ever expected to be interested in what is considered a very niche genre. Thank you for reading over the years, telling your friends, sharing the articles, commenting, and, more than anything else, caring for the artists and the incredible music they created.

God’s Music Is My Life is growing beyond being simply a newsletter. I have some initiatives in the works that will help develop this concept into something that gives us opportunities to engage with one another and show artists the appreciation they deserve, so stay tuned.

In the meantime, check out Church of the Good Groove, a monthly playlist that I curate for SoulandJazz.com. You can listen to the most recent edition here.

I’m excited to share the next feature in the 1986 series with you next week.

Until then,

Tim

1986: I'm For Everybody: Tammy Sue Bakker's 'Sixteen'

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May 9

Go deeper into the stories, songs, and artists that shaped gospel music—each issue is a carefully researched, richly told exploration you won’t find anywhere else. Become a subscriber to God’s Music Is My Life and get every essay, every week.

I Don't Wanna Be A Soldier: Teri DeSario Heeds The Call

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May 25, 2021

Welcome to Week #2 of Women’s History Month! I’m reprising the first full artist feature I ever posted here. We’ve grown quite a bit since this article first ran in 2021 and I want to make sure anyone who has joined us since then sees this. I often say that Teri DeSario is one of the most important artists to have passed through Contemporary Christian M…

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