1/07/2006 | Share this article: View Commentssent in by a born-again atheist
I was born in 1971 into a beer drinking redneck family. We were Lutherans and went to a small country church about one weekend per month. Church was boring to my older brother and I, and, like most kids, we whined and moaned when our parents tried to make us go.
My parents took us to church because they thought it was the right thing to do, but they didn’t seem that enthusiastic about it, and some Sundays they were too hung over to go and relented to our begging to not go.
In 1980, with my mom in the hospital undergoing a stomach operation, my dad was “lead to the Lord” by a coworker and was “saved”.
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