STANDIN' IN THE NEED
Serious, by Ken Bradbury, 1995
The return to a small countrychurch brings back warm memories of youth ... a nostalgic, spiritual trip.
Duration8 - 10 minutes
- 1 Male
- 1 Female
Product Id: #106
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An excerpt …
(A church revisited.)
The small rural church was just like I remembered. My memory had made the white framed building much smaller than it actually was.
The musty smell of worn hymnals was the first reminder of coming here as a youngster. Thumb-smoothed and grayed by the years of Sunday-scrubbed hands, those hymnals stood as mute watchmen protecting the backs of pews from Sabbath to Sabbath.
But the smell. I’d forgotten about the sweet holy smell.
(It brought back a flood of memories.)
The plush carpet that sadly erases all traces of worshippers-past in most churches was happily still missing from the old structure and I walked fight down to where I used to sit with my family. I could see the scuff marks of grandpa’s church shoes ... the ones he polished every Saturday night. Nothing was padded in those pews but the tails of the congregation. The scratches made by five-year old feet streaked the once-white pew backs. I think I saw my print. At least I remember where I used to fidget.
I began to look for the one thing I most wanted to see again. Yes ... nobody had moved it ... the picture of the Savior kneeling in the garden, looking straight up into the light of His father. You can get copies of that print but you can’t find that dusty, imitation-gold frame anywhere. You can get the life of Christ on video but the light will never shine on his face the way the sun hits it through those old south windows.
(The shape of our lives …)
That little church. It was the first place past home we came after we were born ... the nurturing place of our rebirth ... the last building we entered when we died. It was a place as much a part of us as any house we ever owned. That little country church was a building built with faces of friends, with smiles of family and with the gentle touch of something safe, no matter what happened, no matter how far we went away, no matter who we became.
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