Laying brick to build a boys dormitory at a Christian camp when I was in my early teens. My parents were just getting to know James at this time |
Even though I wanted nothing to do with him, my parents demanded he still be a part of our lives.
In
tattered jeans and a Bible study T-shirt, I arrived home to a beautiful
three-story house nestled in a gated community of the no-man’s-land of
Pasco County, Florida. I had just spent two months in Bethlehem, where I
sweated out my summer days shoveling gravel to pave a parking lot for a
Bible college. I was 14 years old, cute, chubby, and still figuring out how eyeliner was meant to be applied.