I had not considered myself a Christian since I was twelve years old. Prior to that age, I went to Sunday School; then I went to Church every Sunday; I was an usher in our church (at twelve, I stood six feet, two inches tall and was bigger than most of the men in the Church). My ancestors came to the American colonies, starting in 1622, seeking religious freedom. I come from a long line of devout Christians and I was a believer myself, until something unusual happened during a communion service, while the choir sang the hymn, "Saved by the Blood of the Crucified One." I had a vision.