October 24, 2016

I speak the language. I know your stories.

I know you never sing the third stanza in a hymn. Even if it’s important plot material, you just pretend like it’s not there.

I know you have to bring a covered dish to heaven with you.

I know the significance of “Selected Individual” in your bulletin.

I know what RAs, GAs, WMU, and BGCT all stand for.

I still remember getting excited about singing hymn number 475, and shouting out “Oh VIC-tory!

I know the reason you should always take two Baptists fishing, instead of one.

I know to abstain from sex, lest it lead to dancing.

I know the promised land is in Nashville, Tennessee.

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