I've been putting this page on the back burner because I want to get it right. I was raised a Methodist. My mother was faithful to that denomina-

tion, but my guess is that my dad just tagged along. Looking back, I view myself when a young boy, innocent and naive, but I don't know. I do know now that we are born with a sinful nature, thanks to Adam, and it isn't all just learned. But I was a slow–bloomer, even to overt sin. I remember being distressed by the Methodists' policy of moving their pastors around. I'd get to know and love somebody, and then the head honchos would reassign them someplace else. I still don't see it.

Anyway, I grew up thinking myself a Christian because I was an American. In those days, America was considered a Christian nation. As I went through my teens, I still attended church. I never ever crossed over to atheism or rejected Jesus. But I didn't know what being born–again was or anything beyond the superficial. I was one of those that thought I was a good guy, and that going to church makes one a Christian. But I was so lost, I didn't even realize that is what I thought. I lived in the world and became a worldly man.

It is very interesting. I embraced globalism in the 70's without ever

having heard the word. Of course in 2021, watching the emergence of the New World Oder is chilling. It just sounded so good. I was enamoured with Seals & Crofts. They had a huge influence on me through their music, and it led to my embracing the Bahá’í Faith. The founder of that religion had some

progressive ideas for his time. I didn't consider it a rejection of Christianity.

I'm noI going to write an exposition on religion here, but I have to say that these people were as loving as any I've ever been close to. Yet it is a cult.

In the name of transparency, I'm posting an example of the music I was doing back then. I know who wrote it because I have the lead sheet I wrote by hand for it. Kerry McCord and I sing I Bear Witness by Joe Lipari. There is nothing bad about the lyrics; they honor God. It's just that they were misdirected. Kerry was and is a leader in the St. Pete Bahá’í community, and still a loving person. He visited me when I had cancer, these many years later.

I had a guitar student, George Bjorkman, who played baseball pro-

fessionally with the St. Pete Cardinals. He had given me cassette tapes of Keith Green and Phil Keaggy, and I was wowed and wooed. He was a strong Christian and his witness to me clarified many of my own struggles.

I kept thinking I had to clean myself up and become perfect before I could think about going down to the altar. One of Keith Green's rants convinced me that I should go to Jesus for that, so sometime in the week of February 17-22, 1981. at a Revival at First Wesleyan Chuch on Yale Street, I was reborn. There wasn't a lot of emotion involved. I had thought this out. Keith Green had pointed out that I'd given everyone and everything else, other than Jesus Christ, a chance. Why not give him an opportunity to work? So

I did. But I hadn't fathomed the full significance of that day, and I didn't take note of it or put it on a calendar. So, for years I wondered when my spiritual birthday was. When I found that scrapbook in the church office, I found this flyer for that Revival with the dates on it. Amazing!

When this little church disbanded, I started going to Suncoast Cath-

edral, a huge (to me) Assemblies Of God church. It is a Pentecostal Church. The pastor, Alan Brewster, was an intellectual. An interesting combination. Rhonda Riley was choir director and I played bass in the orchestra.Yes, an orchestra. I became friends with Rhonda and her husband, Michael, and they were very kind to me. They both have beautiful voices; I'm pretty sure her voice is classically trained. I was fortunate to get them to sing my duet called A Threefold Cord. I debuted my song, Behold The Lamb Of God, on

a Sunday morning at this church. I wonder if Anne-Marie was present. There are a few scraps of church bulletins on my Memorabilia page.

It turns out Anne-Marie (my wife) went to Suncoast Cathedral at the same time I did, but as far as we know, our paths never crossed. That's how big that church was. I got baptised at that church by the Associate Pastor, Ken Squires. I met Rick Powell and his family at this church and

had a beautiful association with him. His daughter, Priscilla Dubas, was one of my son's elementary school teachers. She was a very fine clarinetist and blessed me by playing on my Prodigal Song with Joe Fish. We lost the treasure she was in a car accident, and Rick passed away later from Park-

inson's.

A Threefold Cord

words & music by james madison thomas

sung by Mike & Rhonda Riley

I think I've worked my way to 1984 now. I left Suncoast Cathedral to go

to Chris Osborne's church, River Of Life Fellowship, in St. Petersburg on

Central Avenue. See Osborne & Thomas.

*Last day of 2023. I have reached an impasse in my story. A few years have gone by since I intended to finish it. There is a lot more to tell of the churches I attended and the worship bands I played in. I was going to delete the whole page and replace it with a few sentences, but looking at it now, it isn't all that bad. At this junction, I am too weary nto try to remember and recount it all. I stopped attending church when I was diagnosed with cancer. Nobody seemed to miss me very much (my pastor, my best friend, had moved to Texas) but that wasn't why I stopped attending church. The demands on my body with the cancer treatments were one factor. That and some personal problems I can't go into. Add another few years and I can attest to the harm of a lack of fellowship. If I ever get back to a life of strength, I'll tell you about it.

I hadn't read the Bible enough to know what a biblical world view was. But after five years or so, John 14:6 and other things closed that chapter of my life. After this, I had a guitar student whose parents were Mormons, and they befriended me and tried to recruit me. At this point, disgusted, I thought I had lost the ability to discern truth. So, for a while,

I gave up on figuring it all out. This brings me to 1981.

There was a tiny church a stone's throw away from the house on

Yale Street on the opposite side, First Wesleyan Church. You don't see this

any more, but they sent out people to evangelize the neighborhood. When

they knocked on my door, I wasn't rude, but I didn't want to talk to them. This was old-school Jesus knocking on my door. Very old fashioned.They invited the kids to Vacation Bible School. Years later, I found a photo album in the office of that church with pictures of my children in it. Lowell & Mary-

Faith Jennings were the older couple at my door. After a time, they won me over with their love, and I started going to their little church. They also had a son, Donald, who I think was my age, and with his wife Lori, had small chil-

dren as well,so we had a lot in common. I really loved them, but I've lost track of them.

Mary-Faith and Lowell are in heaven now. But I have to relate a few things that defy coincidence. The Jennings and I figured out together that Mary-Faith was my delivery-room nurse when I was born in Hawaii in 1949. Seriously. Ponder the symbolism of that for a minute. And, President Carter's son, Chip, also came into the world there that night. Many years later, The Bridge Church, under John Myers, rented the Wesleyan's building, so I found myself there once again, though I no longer lived across the street. That's when I found the photo album in the office there. John told me that Earl Wachenswanz, the pastor of First Wesleyan Church when I was there in the 80's, was his pastor growing up in Texas. You can't make this stuff up.

I Bear Witness

Kerry & James