Closing The Doors

The church I attend has moved. It’s really odd. I have gone to church at this building since I was about five years old. They only times I didn’t attend here were when I was away for my senior year of high school, my college years, and when I lived in New York and North Carolina. But, other than that, it’s where I’ve always gone and it’s like a second home to me.

This past Sunday, November 8, we had our last worship service at the building. Oddly enough, I didn’t cry like I thought I would. It probably had something to do with being sick. Narcotic cough medicine can change one’s perspective.

It feels as though I’m leaving behind a part of myself. For over 50 years our congregation has been worshipping at this spot. I’m not sure my car will know how to drive somewhere else.

This is the place where I found two of the best friends in the world!

This is the place where I have helped prepare many meals.

This is the place where I have eaten many meals.

This is the place where I have held many babies – some of whom now have babies of their own! (Nat is gettin’ old!)

From this pulpit I have heard many sermons – some good, some not so good.

This is where I was baptized, and so was my brother.

This is the hallway where I have walked to many, many classes.

This is the classroom where I have spent my Sunday mornings for the past six years, learning from a group of ladies who are older and much, much wiser than me.

This is the classroom where I have molded young minds on Wednesday nights.

The future, I’m sure will be bright; but change is always difficult, whether one wants to admit it or not. Here's to hoping the next 50 plus years at a new location will be as memorable and wonderful as the past 50 plus years at this location.