Now, first and foremost, let's just get one thing straight. Yes, this post is going to be rather churchy, but I'm not here to talk you into having more or less faith that you have today. This is not a sermon. There will be no altar call. There will be no cold and broken Hallelujah. That being said, I used to be a bona fide Jesus freak . My family started attending an Assemblies of God church when I was in middle school. (We're talking about a tongues-speaking , slain-in-the-spirit type of place. Think: charasmatic as the Pentecostals, but with shorter hair and in pants, occasionally.) (No snakes.) (Btw.) So, yes. In those days, Christ (and not caffeine) was my personal savior and I was supposed to "go...into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature." Amy Grant and Michael W. Smith blasted from my boombox, and in the family car we all sang along to our local Contemporary Christian radio station, WJIE. (Where...
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