As I am working on my scrapbooks I came across the picture of this little country church where I first heard that Jesus loves me and remembered this blog I posted a couple of years ago. So thankful for my heritage and wanted to share my story again. Hope you enjoy it.
Little church in the country
Growing up my earliest memories of church took place at Zion Methodist Church. This country church is just east of the town of Mt. Vernon, Illinois where I was born many, many years ago. My mother and father made a commitment to serve the Lord in this little church when I was just a few months old. Although I was obviously too young to remember anything about this event, I heard my father tell the story so many times I feel as if I do remember it.
The Story Goes
My parents were not followers of Christ and enjoyed going to the movies on Sunday nights. My oldest sister, who was nine years old, started attending church with my aunt and uncle. Although only a young girl she understood the simple salvation message the minister preached and made a commitment to God. After that she…
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