This post is part of “30 days of Giving Thanks” To read more within this series, click here.
It was a small insignificant building in a small insignificant coastal town. The streets rolled up at 9 pm along with the gas station. As I stood outside on that breezy August afternoon, I noted with immense pleasure that I could see the ocean from where I stood. Inside the four walls were Christians I had never met before. I was full to bursting with mingled anticipation and trepidation.
My parents and I walked in and were greeted in no time by the preacher, the elders and various members. Within the space of 10 minutes we were invited to dinner, offered a place to stay and—since I would be carless—arrangements made for a ride to worship and bible classes. It was a small group, but large in love, hospitality and godliness. I…
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