It was against Mom’s religion to wear pants, so she wore long Christian-style dresses that hid those gorgeous legs. Even as teenagers, those churchgoing traits were instilled in us. It didn’t matter how old we were — in Mom’s house, everyone went to church.
“Sunday is the Lord’s Day, and we must worship him. Everyone get up and get ready, now,” Mom would tell us.
Every Sunday, off to church we went. At the Baptist Church, Sunday mornings meant embracing Bible studies and morning worship services. After studying the Bible, the deacons would start with devotion as the first part of the service. The congregation would lead in by singing old gospel hymns, then praying, testifying, reading the scriptures, and taking up an offering. Once church services began around 11 a.m., there were more hymns, responsive readings, the passing of collection plates, sermons, and an altar call—but not without plenty of shouting going on. Services concluded with pastor giving his benediction (the blessings). Staying in the church really made a difference when we were growing up. Some things we just wouldn’t do because they were unrighteous. In our relationships as siblings, yeah, we fought among ourselves, but we were always mindful and respectful of others.
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