Raining with high heat and lot’s of humidity. Miserable if you must work outdoors.

Over the course of time I have developed this notion that as I grew older, besides gaining wisdom, I would gain respect from others -particularly those younger than me. I am 66 years old. When I was growing up you respected your elders. You attributed honor to them, except perhaps during your adolescent years when you were still trying to figure out which end is up. This was particularly true with family. The reason, I think, that I fully embrace the belief system and religion of my elders, is rooted to some degree in this idea of honor and respect. Living with my grandparents through kindergarten, I went to Sunday School and Church every Sunday. I went to vacation bible school in the summer. I heard that phrase “Jesus died for your sins” frequently, though I had no clue what it actually meant. When my sister Sylvia and I moved from Beaver City Nebraska, to Salina, Kansas, to live with our mother, we stopped going to church. This felt wrong to me somehow, so I sought out church youth groups of various school friends. For a number of years I was involved with “MYF” (Methodist Youth Fellowship) at Grand Avenue United Methodist Church. I remember attending confirmation classes and being “baptized” by having cold water sprinkled on my head. I felt a sort of duty had been fulfilled in this, but still did not fully grasp what was going on. When I was 14, mom had remarried and we started attending a small start-up Baptist church. In addition to playing electric guitar and much livelier songs, the pastor was much more emphatic, louder and more animated that the guys in the long robes I had experienced up to this point. He preached the message of the Gospel. He said that it was possible to know with certainty that one was saved and going to heaven by grace alone, not by church attendance or trying to obey the 10 commandments. Every week they had an altar call. While they sang “Just As I Am”, those who wanted to accept Christ were expected to “come forward” and kneel at the “altar”. For the first time in my 14 years, I understood what “Jesus died for your sins” meant, and I went forward. From that moment on, I have rarely doubted that in that moment, I had become a Christian. At 17 I was baptized properly via full immersion. At 19 I was attending Bible College in Texas. Fast forwarding through marriage, having kids and struggling as an alcoholic for 25 years, I am still a Christian. During the darker years I violated my conscience, broke almost all the commandments and abandoned the church, but I was still a Christian. A poor one, to be sure, but I always hung on to the fact that God would never abandon me. I haven’t had a drink for 16 years now. I’m back at church. I desire to share Jesus with others. God had to allow me to be an alcoholic for 25 years, because there were things I needed to learn that I was not going to get any other way. I was a bone head. God still has a lot of work to do on me, but at least now I am willing to allow Him to do it. HOPE is all about hanging on and not letting go.