As a child I went to a Methodist church in Doniphan, Nebraska. Back then everything was right with the world. The only thing I had to worry about was how hard the whippin' was going to be when my Dad told me to be quiet in church and I chose not to.
I was really good at holding my breath. I could do several different shades of blue by the time we reached the back of the church. It was in that church that I was "sprinkled" for the Lord.
We moved to Missouri in 1956 when my father had a falling out with his brothers and sisters about the family farm. We arrived in Macon, MO late one cold rainy evening with a truckload of furniture. Dad was so tired from driving all that way that he missed seeing the height of an underpass and we shaved off the top of the load as we went under. The only thing what was left of my Mother's beautiful dining from set was the table and that had a broken leg on it. It pretty much went down hill from there for my Mom.
Things didn't turn out like my parents had planned and they slowly began to drift apart. My family wasn't much for the "touchy, feelly, love stuff" so I went out looking for my own. I was searching for the one person who would give me that unconditional love that I so needed.
I was born in Warrensburg, MO. on the Air Force Base, the youngest of my family. My older sister was not yet ready for another baby, as she was only 18 mos. old. My parents were very young. Momma was 16 when she married my Daddy.
My parents were belivers, and I was raised in a Godly home. We were at church any time the doors were opened. I remember singing specials in church when I was only about 3 or 4 years old, and Momma says I did even younger than that. Both my parents sang. Momma played the piano by ear, she had had 7 lessons, and that is really all she needed. Daddy had quite a range, he could sing soprano, and bass, whatever the situation required! We sang as a family, and my Daddy led the choir. Momma usually taught a Sunday school class, and Daddy did too, sometimes. I'd get sleepy sitting still, so Momma would spread her coat on the floor under the pew, and I can remember many times being lulled to sleep by a heart-felt sermon. :)
More
I grew up in a good home and Mama always took us kids to church every time the doors were opened. How she wrestled the three of us all those years through all sorts of weather, many different communities and churches and without Daddy's help is almost beyond my comprehension as I look back on my own years with young children. Still, she made sure we heard the gospel and she modeled the kind of Christian life that I still admire today.
I remember one day that Pastor Littleford from the Southdale Baptist Church in Minneapolis came to visit our home. He was there to speak with me. I was probably around 8 years old at the time and have no recollection of the event, other than he came and he sat in Daddy's chair in the living room.
Mama tells me that after my conversation with Pastor Littleford that I was baptized. I always thought it odd that I couldn't remember anything so exciting as that, but Mama assured me that I had asked Jesus into my heart so was saved and had been scripturally baptized, so I needn't worry about it.
But, I did worry.
More
"I will sing with the spirit, and I will also sing with the understanding." 1 Corinthians 14:15