I finally catch a glimpse of a man in an orange vest up on the corner. My patience is not where I would like it to be. I got out of the car, walked to the gentleman, and asked him what was going on. He said that he was from Fellowship Church and that the church was opening its new building on 121. He said the line of cars was a caravan from the old location to the new one. So I inquired about the number of cars involved. He said, “Several hundred.” “Wow, I guess I am going to be late for my ride.” The caravan went on.
I finally got to the race, set up my bike and started to ride, and the Lord started working. “Deb, you got mad at church people.” So I peddled some more. “You know you have been looking for a church.” “Yes, Lord, I have been.” I was raised in a church, and my father made sure that three times a week I was there and thumped on the back of the head if I fell asleep. I drifted as soon as I was old enough to make my own decisions. I was out of there.
Ed Young stated that now I will fast forward to 1998, without mentioning the number of years I was away from the church. But 1998 started out tough. It kept working on me, try Fellowship, try Fellowship. It took about two or three weeks until I started coming to service. Ten rows from the back and about half way over was Deb’s favorite seat. I could just kind of blend in.










