Reflections

Lately I've been pondering church and why we do things the way we do them. For instance church is so different these days. You can attend a traditional service where most people dress in their "Sunday best" and go to Sunday school followed by preaching. You can attend a more contemporary church where people don't dress up and they drink coffee and have refreshments. You can attend a church that offers contemporary and/or traditional worship depending on the time you come. You can attend church in a school gym, a remodeled mall, a metal building or a traditional church building complete with stained glass windows and a sanctuary. Once you get to the church you may see people in all types of clothing and shoes. Those same people will have their Bibles, but the versions will vary as much as the people. There's the King James version, the New King James Version, the New International Version ... and the list goes on. Most churches not only have an organ, but now have drums, trumpets, well ... a full orchestra. Some churches still have a choir and choir robes. The main thing the church needs is to invite the Holy Spirit to join in the midst of those attending. The church needs to have a man of god who preaches from the word of God. The church needs sinners who want to be saved by Jesus' blood. What does church mean to you?

When I was a little girl mom made sure me and my brothers put on our Sunday best and we went to Tucapau Baptist church. We sat on the 3rd pew from the back, left side of the church. I absolutely loved looking out of the beautiful stained glass windows. Each window had someones name of dedication. We sang hymns and actually held the hymnal ( sharing the hymnal with my mother was something precious). We knew everyone around us and made sure to greet any visitors. We read out of the King James Version of the Bible and I'm sure we all had the same version. It was where I prayed and asked Jesus into my heart and where I was baptized. I lived next to Startex Mill and on Sunday the mill was shut down. That meant peace and quiet; no noise of the looms running or people talking or traffic in the parking lot. Sunday was a special day, set apart. It was a day of worship, respect and reverence. I wonder if it will ever be that way again? Sadly, I believe that time in our history is gone ... I miss it. I wish my daughter could have experienced a Sunday like I did.

Reflecting ...