Every Sunday of My Childhood

I've been thinking a lot about my little hometown church that closed a few weeks ago. 

Every Sunday School of my childhood ended with our Sunday School class standing in front of that little railing and reciting the Bible verse of that day's lesson.  Each class would rise and recite their verse, then we'd all sing a hymn.  If there was a birthday, the birthday person (young or old) would go forward and put pennies in a little white plastic church bank:  one penny for each year of life.  Sunday School always ended with the same prayer.

"Let the words of my mouth

And the meditations of my heart

Be acceptable in Thy sight

O Lord, My Strength and My Redeemer."

Some things just stay with you.

Highs and Lows

The last few days have been something else.

My sophomore boy, undergoing chemo, lost his hair last week.  He returned to school to find about 10-15 friends with shaved heads.  I now know what my boys will look like in about 30 years.  Pretty sweet way of letting him know that he's not alone.

L told her elementary school goodbye on Friday.  She said that both she and her kids ended the day in tears.  She was still in tears when I talked to her on the way home from work.  She's excited for the next step, but sad not to see her little ones next year.

Baby Girl T had a baby shower (thrown by K's colleagues) on Saturday.  Those tiny clothes are just adorable.  And now K and CT have the crib and changing table put together so they are ready to begin on the nursery.

Today, was Graduation Day in Tiny Town.  We had beautiful weather for outdoor parties.

But before graduation, I returned to my hometown for the last service held in the church of my childhood.

Our church family was a close one.  I always knew that the prayers of the church followed me through life and even off to college.  Mom was the church pianist.  I sang my first solo there.   I preached sermons on youth Sunday, acted in countless Christmas Pageants, and memorized hundreds of Bible verses and Bible stories in Sunday School and Vacation Bible School. That little church was a huge part of my childhood and my life.

Today, they deconsecrated the church, disbanded it, and closed the doors forever.  It broke my heart.  I guess I thought that the church and the people in it would always be there. 

So many old friends and church family gathered there today for the last time. My little big brother sang.  I saw people I hadn't seen in years.  And I cried and took pictures and promised myself that I would write about it sometime.  But not today.

With graduation, I missed a big birthday celebration for B, my stepmother.  I hope she had a great afternoon.  Surprises aren't really her thing.  I hope they are now, or my Dad could be in big trouble!

There are four school days ahead of me. I will have all of my students for the first two days.  The last two days, only a few students will be around to take finals; others opted out when they passed the State Math Assessment.

The Mr. says he is working full time again--starting tomorrow.  Lovely.  We'll see how that goes.

I'm looking forward to June.  I'm behind on blog reading and reading in general.  I am ready for a slower pace and for this roller coaster ride to level out a bit.  May has been a bit crazy.  I'm hoping this isn't the "new normal."

New Church

We dedicated our new church last weekend.  It really is beautiful.  If you've followed this blog a bit, you know that the huge wooden altar cross was still standing in the rubble of our old church after the tornado.  It is back in its place of honor in our new church.

These pictures were taken last Sunday.  They aren't mine because I was singing in the choir.  Our church is lucky to have a couple of good photographers.

Our church is also fortunate to have a wealth of adorable kids.  Almost three years ago the children sang a song based on Joshua 1:6:  "Be strong and courageous."  It was their message to our congregation after the tornado.  They sang the song for us again on Sunday morning.  I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one with "leaking eyes."  (Quoting Dad here!)

In the months after the tornado, those adorable kids endured Sunday School sitting on the kitchen floor.  We were having church in our fellowship hall, but the rest of the church building was gone or needed extensive renovation. And now...

the work is completed.  At the afternoon dedication, the choir sang for the first time in three years:  "All Good Gifts" and "Holy Ground."  It wasn't hard to figure out that the music was chosen carefully. 

At the conclusion of the service, there was a reception in our newly remodeled fellowship hall.  The extensive use after the tornado meant that it needed a face lift.  It got it just in time for Dedication Sunday.

Now that the pulpit furniture has arrived and the fellowship hall is finished, I think our church is now complete.  For three years I routinely avoided church services in our cramped, claustrophobic conditions.  It is nice to be back in regular worship with our congregation. 

Tiny Town's UMC is a beautiful sight.  "We are standing on Holy Ground, and I know that there are angels all around."

Now I owe you a post with pictures of our beautiful new schools.  My goal is to get that accomplished before the 3rd anniversary of the tornado.  There's a lot of holy ground in Tiny Town these days. It takes a bit to get it all together.

Sunday Mornings

I like Sunday mornings. 

The alarm doesn't scare me out of bed.

The Mr. and I walk Baxter.

I listen to the Mr. complain about Jenna Wolf on the Today Show.

The CBS Sunday Morning News is my favorite news show of the week.

I think I love Charles Osgood.

The new church sanctuary is just lovely. 

We have adorable little kids at our church.

(Most of them belong to colleagues.)

I have a "stand-in Mom" at church.

She greets me with a hug every Sunday. 

I'm only a little jealous of her daughter.

Did I say like?

I love Sunday mornings.