Summer 1980.
We were standing in a line. A food line, snaking its way into the church fellowship hall.
It was an interesting mix of people. Some of our church members, who were hosts. Most of our youth group, over which I presided. And a touring youth choir from Kentucky. It was a fun atmosphere, and everybody was having a good time as they got to know each other and anticipated the concert later that evening.
Standing at the rear of the line there in Lumberton, Mississippi, were the pastor of the Kentucky church and the pastor of the Mississippi church – my friend Rick. The Kentucky pastor made an interesting observation, especially for somebody who hadn’t been there very long.
“There’s something different about this church,” he said to Rick.
Little did he really know. But he would soon find out.
And it all started at camp. [click to continue…]
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