I suppose I’ve come full circle.
Growing up in a holiness church in southern Mississippi, I believed we Nazarenes, we Wesleyan holiness folk, were odd.
We didn’t smoke or drink or cuss or chew or dip—but neither did the local Baptists, Pentecostals, or most Methodists. So, our don’ts had enough company to keep us from standing out.
However, we went a little further than them when it came to avoiding the movies, the carnival, card playing, the Sunday paper, and bowling alleys—where I hear people did horrible things.