When I was in my late 60’s, I realized something was missing in my life.
When I was about 7 years old, my sister started asking those questions in life that kids raised in church ask. Where do I go when I die? Why do we go to church?
My family was a tight-knit group who cared for each other. I heard about God and Jesus many times growing up.
I remember standing in my mother’s bathroom as she was getting ready, and we were talking about heaven and hell.
Growing up and then all through high school, I felt alone.
I knew about God, but I didn’t “know” God.
One night, I asked my dad questions about heaven, hell, and becoming a Christian.