Why I am who I am My earliest religious memory is that of a 6 year old, standing in the vestibule of the 2nd Baptist Church in Fairfield, Texas. My Aunt was discussing with me the merits of Jesus Christ, and my need for his Saving Grace. I vaguely knew who Jesus was but did know that I wanted to go to Heaven, so the generic sequence that followed, most Christians in the United States will recognize; "Dear Jesus, please come into my heart, be my Lord and Savior. I ask this in the name of Jesus, Amen." That...
