Thursday, June 21, 2018
From my earliest memories, my parents taught me to be an atheist. Our home even donned a sign on the front: “The Moores, The Atheists.” They were followers of a philosopher and literary giant named Ayn Rand, from whom I get my first name, “Rand.” Later in life, however, through homelessness, extreme poverty, and drug abuse, my family had brushes with religious people, general do-gooders hoping to help and wanting to share the good news of Jesus with us. In almost every case, these people donned a different sign: “Baptist.” Though I never knew what that meant, I knew from an early age that Baptists were passionate and caring people.
