I don’t remember the day I was saved. Not specifically, anyway. I hear a lot of Christians, especially men, speak proudly and openly about the day of their salvation, and they can name a specific date and sometimes time of day. I can’t do that. But I do remember where, and I sort of remember when.
Twin City Bible Church in Nitro, WV was the church of my childhood. A Baptist church with a decent-sized congregation of people from all demographics, but looking back I remember that most of them were white, upper-middle class and above the age of 40. I went mostly because my grandparents attended, and as I child I followed my Papaw everywhere, including church. But there were some really nice people there who were welcoming and friendly and had a lasting impact on my childhood.
The church was just across the railroad tracks from my grandparents’…
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