I grew up attending church at a Quaker/Friends church in Marion, and I've told you about that before, including this trip down memory lane last summer. This is the church where I was dedicated to the Lord as a baby, where I learned memory verses and Sunday School songs, where I worked in the nursery, sang in the choir, played piano solos, and took my turn on the two tiniest handbells in the handbell choir. This was where I attended youth group and went to lock-ins and weekend retreats, where I did my first ever public speaking in church, and where my foundation as a Christian found its bottom layers.
I did not want to leave this church, ever in my life. I wanted to get married there and raise my own kids in the same hallways where I ran {only when adults weren't looking} as a kid myself. But when I was a fifth grader, the church went through a devastating split, and a few years later, before we'd even had a chance to recover, it split again. By the time I graduated from high school, the huge sanctuary held just a smattering of people who continued to be faithful to come. I loved each of them dearly, but the closest one to me in age was probably still twice my age.
By the time I completed my freshman year of college, I knew I had to find a new home. The church I loved with all my heart was not {in the foreseeable future, anyway} going to recover from its traumatic splits, and if I was going to be part of a church with people my own age, I was going to have to relocate. Leaving absolutely undid me. In fact, I did not tell one soul that I was leaving until after I was gone, because I knew they would all talk me out of it. So I drove out of the parking lot on that last Sunday, sobbing, knowing I would find a new church that would fit me, but grieving the only church home I'd ever known.
It was a big responsibility, I felt, to find a new home on my own. I was 19 and smart enough to know what I needed to look for in a church, but scared to death to look on my own. Walking into unfamiliar church foyers all by myself was daunting for a scaredy-cat like me. I knew I needed a home with solid Bible teaching, life in its pews, and potential friendships. And Marion could not be accused of having a shortage of churches, so I knew I should be able to find something. But where?
God had already walked ahead and begun to prepare the way. In the months leading up to that change for me, He had placed three new friends in my path who all shared a church home: Chapel Pike Wesleyan. Two of them were new co-workers of mine and one was a college friend. All three spoke so highly of their church and urged me to visit. They promised I would be warmly welcomed and offered me a seat with them if I didn't want to sit alone.
So in the summer of 1997, I went for the first time. And for the next eleven years, Chapel Pike was my church home. I grew so much there. I was {as promised} warmly welcomed, I made new friends, I learned valuable lessons, and my faith strengthened within those walls. And the only reason I left, eleven years later, was because God unmistakably put it on my heart that it was time to make a change. I fought against it and argued at length, because I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to change. I didn't want anything new. But He was clear, and again, I slipped out of the church without telling a soul I planned to leave - until the decision was behind me.
Last Sunday, Chapel Pike celebrated 100 years of ministry, and because the retreat I spoke at ended unusually early, and because Chapel Pike was on the path between the retreat and home, we were able to sneak in late and enjoy the second half of the celebration service and stay for the lunch that followed. Ryan never attended here, and this Sunday was just a gift he gave me in being able to go back to a place that meant so much to me, even though he had no ties to it.
We were an hour late {eek!} but the service was long, so we still got to enjoy an hour of music and preaching!
I borrowed this picture from Facebook, because it shows us paying rapt attention!!!
We were in the overflow room, because the main sanctuary was absolutely packed. But I did sneak out once to take pictures from the back of the sanctuary.
And Josh was a youth group member when I started attending, but he is now a full-fledged minister and delivered a wonderful sermon for the morning!
Jaye came partway through my time at the church, when her husband came to be the youth pastor. Pastor Brian was the one who ended up baptizing me several years ago, actually. Jaye was in the Bible study I led and was such an encouragement to me!
100 years is a long time to do ministry, and I am grateful for the eleven years {out of the century} that the people of this church fed into my life!!
4 comments:
What a great milestone! Sounds like a great celebration!!
How cool that you were up that way for the retreat and got to be part of the celebration and see good friends. What a blessing!
I'm glad you didn't let being late or jeans keep you from coming. Good to see you!
Cheri
Tamar - It was!
Maria - God worked all that timing out, didn't He?
CHERI!!! Oh thank you for saying something so I knew you saw this! It was great to see you too, and I'm sad I didn't get a picture with you!!! Thanks for ALL the many encouraging words and prayers you offered for me while I was at Chapel Pike, and even since. You are a treasure!! :)
Post a Comment