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To All My Backsliding Friends and Family

I grew up in Belleville, IL.
It’s a fairly decent sized town right outside St. Louis.
 Growing up I was raised in a pretty strict religious family. I was raised Apostolic Pentecostal.
 I loved it.
My parents scrapped the bottom of the barrel and sacrificed so much for me and my sisters to attend a private Pentecostal school.
They made sure we were at church every Sunday, Sunday night and Wednesday night.
We prayed before every meal and every night before bed.
My mother and father were Sunday school teachers, my mom was the Ladies Auxiliary leader and my dad led worship and preached.
Our life revolved around God.
Then one day my parents got the bright idea to move to Florida.
All was fine and well for a short while, but slowly they began to abandon the way of the Lord and follow after the things of this world.
 I was 13 when this happened.
From that moment on I tried my best to be a witness to them and continued to pray for them, but they usually didn’t want much to do with it.
 I, to this day, continue to pray for them.
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