Conservative Smokeshow of the Day

I grew up with two siblings, an older brother and a younger sister. My brother was obsessed with trucks, hunting, and college football, while my younger sister and I spent hours playing dress-up, experimenting with makeup, and arguing over who got to borrow whose clothes. Our house was loud, occasionally chaotic, and constantly full of people. My parents believed family was supposed to be involved in one another's lives, which meant we ate dinner together whenever possible and were expected to show up for each other's important moments.

Christianity was the foundation of our household from the very beginning. We attended a Southern Baptist church about fifteen minutes from our home, and Sunday mornings were practically sacred. My mother would have our clothes laid out the night before, and my father would remind everyone that we needed to leave early enough to make it to Sunday school. We prayed before meals, read Bible stories together when we were little, and learned that our faith was supposed to influence how we treated other people, not just what we said we believed.