One day this past week I got up at 4:00 a.m., climbed into my Toyota Tundra truck, and began driving from our home near Concord, New Hampshire to Albany, New York where I was to speak at a men's conference. It's a 185-mile trip (a long drive for New Englanders but not for Texans) if you take the most direct route. But I decided on a much longer itinerary so that I could visit some places I'd not seen since I was a child sixty years ago.
Driving across central Vermont, I headed for Lake George, a beautiful lake in upstate New York where, in my childhood, my family often summered while my father, a preacher, taught the Scriptures each day at a tiny Bible conference center. When I reached the site where the conference had once existed, I was astounded to discover that some of the old buildings (probably constructed around the time of the Civil War) were still there. Now abandoned, probably condemned, they stood like haunted houses on unkempt property. It is probably fifty years since they ...
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