I want to share something close to my heart. This is the story behind one of the most personal songs I’ve ever written: “Dixie’s Eyes Were Fire.”
I grew up in the Church of God in Christ. That was my whole world for most of my childhood. We had revivals, evangelistic meetings, and traveling ministers who would come through and stir the spirit. But none ever impacted me the way Evangelist Dixie Stokes did.
I don’t know how old I was when I first saw her. Young enough to still be figuring out what power felt like. But I knew the moment she walked in something shifted. Not just in me. In the whole room.
She didn’t have to say much. She just walked in, and the air changed. The congregation would light up. You could feel her presence. There was something holy about it, but it wasn’t loud. It wasn’t flashy. It was real. Magnetic. Unshakable. She’d stand at the mic in silence before speaking, and that alone would move the whole room into reverence. I didn’t have the words back then, but I know now: she was carrying something sacred. And it recognized me.
Sometimes, she’d blow air from her mouth as if to pass that fire on. People would stand and cry out. Not because of hype. But because they felt what she carried.
Every time I heard she was coming back, I’d be filled with joy. It was like counting down to a personal holiday. I needed that presence. I longed for that feeling again.
And here’s something special: my mother was the district missionary, which meant she often hosted the evangelists who came through. So Dixie Stokes stayed in our home.
Let me tell you I cleaned like I was cleaning for royalty. I was just a child, but I knew I was preparing the space for someone holy. And when she arrived, her presence didn’t change. Even in the stillness of our living room, she carried peace. She didn’t say much to me, but I could feel her. And that meant more than words.
I remember walking past the room and seeing her sitting quietly. No TV. No noise. Just presence. It was so familiar, so magnetic, so pure. And I remember thinking:“I want to be like her.”
Not out of envy. Not because I wanted attention. But because I saw something I recognized in myself. Even then. I didn’t know what to call it, but I knew: That’s what I am.I want to affect people the way she affects me.I want to hold presence the way she holds presence.I want to give hope and goodness and a feeling of light to others.
And that’s why this song was born.
“Dixie’s Eyes Were Fire” is not just a memory.It’s a recognition. A reflection. A remembering.Of the first time I saw truth inside someone else and knew it lived inside me too.
So if you’ve ever heard the song and wondered about it now you know.If you grew up in our church, maybe you remember her too.And if somehow, Dixie ever hears this… I want her to know:I saw you. I still do.And your fire lives on through me.
