When I was 14 years-old, a bus captain knocked on my family’s door and led my mom to Christ. Every week, bus workers would come and invite my family to church, but we would give them a new excuse every week. They were persistent so, finally, we came one Sunday…
We ran out the door and headed toward the play ground, to make a long story short the guys at the door helped catch my brother and me, and when everything had calmed down the guy invited us to ride the church bus to pleasant valley baptist church. . .
When I was born, my parents were twenty years of age and were not Christians. My mother abused me when I was only a year old. She burned my hands with hot tap water from the faucet, broke five of my ribs, my shoulder, my wrist, and my nose. Because she could not care for my sister and me…
I was six years old when I saw my first church bus. I was riding my bike down the street on a Sunday morning when I noticed a bus across the street at my friend’s house. I knew he wasn’t going to school and was curious why a bus was in front of his house. As I stopped my bike to
In 2003, we lived on Latham Street in Mountain View, California. Two ladies came by our apartment one day and invited my wife and 2-year-old son to ride the bus to North Valley Baptist Church. That was November, and at that time I was working two jobs with no days off. In December, however, I got a Sunday off, and my wife asked me to
