I attended the Christmas Cantata at First Baptist Church. The choir did a beautiful job, as always. During the singing, memories from growing up at that church flooded my mind. Some of my best childhood fun happened within the walls of First Baptist.
There’s something special about being a church kid. My parents were heavily involved, and if the doors were open, our family was there. In early elementary school, my parents sang in a gospel group. While they practiced, my brother and I played in the sanctuary, sliding on the tile floor under all the pews. Sometimes, we snuck upstairs to the balcony area—we thought we were big stuff— and other times to the baptistry. There wasn’t an unlocked room we didn’t explore.