When I was about 9, Vacation Bible School seemed super fun- since all the kids were doing it. There was a Christian Flag and an allegiance to be pledged.. Stuff to memorize. Church was a club... "ooooh," I thought, "I want to be in a club!!!"
So, I started going to church (Baptist Church) with the old lady next door, Ms Martin. Mama bought me a dress and I'm pretty sure I wore the same one every time I went to church. (I bet the congregation thought "oh, that poor girl who comes with Ms Martin...")
I was concerned about being a church member: How did I get to be one... and should I get baptised... this church had a pool behind the alter... sometimes I'd sneak to look at it. I associated it with funerals so I didn't want to get baptized...
For then on, I told people I was a Baptist-- for the next 10 years! I probably went a hand full of time and attend two or three summer camps- I guess that's all it takes.
We moved when I was eleven and after making friends with my neighbor, Jennifer- I went to church with her a lot. They were Pentecostal Holiness.
Don't know much about the preaching of either churches- during my childhood years. All I can say is that religion has always had my attention and NO ONE could tell me who God's mama was or who made him.
That seemed to be the mystery that stumped me and no one cared.
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