Christian Deconstruction of a chronic non-believer
In a humble neighborhood of Dayton, OH stood a house converted into a church. The denomination was A.M.E. Zion which stands for African Methodist Episcopal. I was front row of the congregation every Sunday with my mother, grandmother and my two sisters. My grandfather stood tall and proud in the pulpit as our pastor. My mother was in charge of the children's ministry. She taught us a song to memorize the books of the Bible. She also taught us The Lord's Prayer and The Benediction of our church. My grandmother supervised activities as she saw fit and was mostly there to be The First Lady and support her husband's chosen profession. Her work truly began once we arrived at my grandparents house after church. She would prepare a bowl of Campbell's chicken noodle soup with saltines on the side for Grandpa. We would all sit around him as he ate and he would interact with us children. I would look at the pictures in the house and ask questions about the people in them. My aunt...