My Home Church

There are memories in every corner of this church.  I could almost hear Miss Pam scolding us for goofing off when we were supposed to be helping in the church kitchen.  I could also hear my 16 year old self telling my little Missionette girls to stop running down that long hall in the church. I could see myself in the back pew passing notes to my friends and pretending to read the Pentecostal Evangel. (It seemed legit when I was bored)

The altar is still the same too. The corner when Jesus spoke so clearly to my heart, with tears dripping on that mauve carpet. It’s tan carpet now, but the corner feels the same. Sis Neugin is there, she might move a little slower but her prayer power is the same. Oh how I loved when she put her hand on my shoulder in those altars.

Visiting my home church after so many years away felt like such a gift. To hug the necks of so many who have had such an incredible impact on my life is a treasure that is indescribable. They let me sing and lead worship as a young teen. I probably didn’t deserve it— I was raising my hands on Sunday and dabbling with the world on Monday.

They sent me on my first mission trip. I am sure they could have never imagined how that trip was a pivotal moment in my life. It was at at a time when I was trying to figure out if the faith of my family was really MY faith. I was at that “fork in the road.” Their prayers and support were like a magnet that held me to the right path. They had no idea. 

They have faithfully supported us since I began this missionary journey. Most of these precious saints are retired military, a barber, teachers, real estate people,—every day hardworking people. They probably cannot fathom how their offerings, given from hard earned money, are literally changing the whole world!

I mean we are not a big church with flashy lights or even coffee in the foyer but we are a world changing church. I hope they know that. I hope they understand that their worship on Sunday and their work on Monday - Friday is significant because they come together. I don’t know if they can see it, but I do. I see so much beauty, wonder, grace and even genius in what it means to bring people together into a humble community of faith, where together they love Jesus and His work.

Perhaps the most precious memory is the center aisle of the sanctuary. The one that I walked down to say “I do” to the love of my life. The memory of his expression when he first saw me coming down the aisle is forever wrapped up in my heart. And I thought of my living, death-conquering Jesus on that day when he first sees His Bride, the Church. What makes us beautiful to Him? It isn’t a state of the art sound system, and it won’t be the coffee or the color of the carpet. It will simply be our common our adoration of Him in everyday life, loving everyday people and coming together to love Him.

Thank you Valparaiso First Assembly of God for showing me what it means to be a part of the Church that Jesus gave his life for. I will always be indebted to you for this priceless gift.