Wed, May 23 2012 - 13:54 PM
It was small, yet it was a giant, the people very genuine, loving and kind. They wanted to please the Lord, worship Him and follow the strong leading of His Spirit. The little church that was located down the road, down the road from my house. They took in strays, of which I was one. Parents caught up in work, mom caught up in an affair and later left the family. The little church down the road was there.
The little church down the road had people who, on purpose, loved a ten year-old boy when his parents went through a horrible divorce. The little church down the road also took in my broken-hearted dad. He was a deaf man who lost his wife to another man. The heartache could be felt in our lonely home for months. Yet, the little church down the road walked with us.
The little church down the road had a pastor who gave and gave and ministered. Many nights, this pastor from the little church down the road would sit with my dad as he would cry and cry. Many times this pastor's wife from the little church down the road would take me and make sure I had what I needed. I would spend the night at their home and they loved me.
It was through this little church that I found Christ as my Savior. As the wounds healed, my dad married again. Together, we would attend this little church down the road. The little church began to grow. It could no longer be called little, yet the people remained close in that they cared for each other.
Now a mature believer, my dad and stepmom would help others. We had become a big part of the church down the road. My godly stepmother became a strong part of my personal growth in Christ. Just when I thought the church that pulled my dad and I out of turmoil was done helping us, my wonderful stepmother passed away. Again, the church was there. I recall sitting on the church bench the Sunday after she passed. I was so sad. The youth leaders and the other teens ran to me and held me. I was sad, but I was so comforted.
I remember how it was celebrated when I announced my call to ministry. The support and encouragement I received from my church was amazing.
When I talked to our pastor about it, he told me I would be preaching in two weeks. At the age of seventeen, I stood before people who loved me and I preached.
As a seven year old boy, I was knocked off my feet by this cruel world. In the depth of my guttered life, the little church down the road picked me up. The little church cleaned me off, set my course and commissioned me. I have such a gratitude for that church! That was forty years ago, and what I have learned since that time is that one congregation is a part of a greater gathering. The body of Christ! I am thankful that they functioned in their part of the big church!
Category: One Thought at a Time