Jesus was worshipped.
I had a great childhood.
Dad was crazy about mom.
My dad was the same at home as he was at church.
I can’t believe how patient my parents were.
The Gospel was preached.
My parents did not assume I understood the Gospel. Ever.
We prayed often… even when meals weren’t involved.
We laughed… a lot.
My parents loved Jesus.
My parents treated me with respect.
My parents’ love was unconditional.
My parents were servants.
There was wisdom.
My dad asked for my forgiveness… more than once.
I know I was… but I can’t remember being spanked.
My parents loved the church.
My dad preferred me over his ministry.
My parents weren’t perfect, but they were broken.
I was prepared for life.
The standard was sincerity and not behavior.
I was encouraged to be myself.
I learned what it meant to love my spouse by watching mom and dad.
Grace, not law was the means of correction.
My parents listened.
I was free to make mistakes.
There was unending forgiveness.
My parents were my friends.
My parents insisted I know they love me.
-Byron Yawn, 01-31-12