The Beginning
Every story has a beginning, so it seems that's where I should start. My story begins at the beginning of my life. Though my mother was a believer, she didn't have me baptized because she felt that it needed to be a personal choice. You come to Jesus because you choose to, not because someone chooses for you. My parents didn't go to church when I was very young. The first time I went to church/Sunday School, was when I was about 4 years old. The neighbors invited me. I don't remember too much about it, except that I was dressed all out in my Sunday best, and I remember coming home having loved it. After my parents divorced, we moved to Michigan to be near my mother's family, and there I went to Sunday School and church every Sunday in a small church that my grandfather had built on his own land (which he donated to the church). Between my house (which was also on my grandfather's land) and the church lay my uncle's house (also on grandpa's land) ...