Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Biscuits

Through broken speech, a grown man stood and told of how he went to church for years with only one parent. The sight of a younger, but very brave father of two standing up before us to give Devotion tonight, who had noted something beautiful about his daughters, something very special that brought tears to all of our eyes, had tugged deep inside this other man. With pride gleaming from him, he illuminated the room with the warmth of his memory of going to church without his dad.

Another parent stood soon after to just tell us how blessed she was which led her up front to take her place at the piano and just sing about it instead. I watched her Sunday as she sat at that very piano. While her fingertips gently touching those ivory keys, her daughter walked from the very back of the church, to hug her Mama in the middle of a song. I didn't think I could like the song any more, but with that moment, it became much more valuable.

Tonight she sang and almost every voice in that church sang with her. She looked up as she often does, like she's lost in the song, unaware that anyone besides her and The Lord are even present, and I could see a sparkle under her eye. A single tear glimmered as bright as the finest silver and she sang again.

When the preacher stood up he read several verses and the more he read, the stronger his voice got. The stronger his voice got, the more he paced across because he was being filled with more energy than his voice alone could project. He got loud but at a civilized volume and the more he spoke, the more attracted the congregation seemed.

With keen interest, we listened as he talked about favorite places. From childhood to adulthood, he spoke of different places he loved to visit. He mentioned his aunt's house where he always had special homemade biscuits. Everyone could have what they wanted but he had special ones she made just for him. He said his wife noted one of her favorite places was going to her grandmother's house. She had the knack for making each one of her many grand kids feel like they were the only one.

I could relate to both. I loved Maw Maw's biscuits, and each one of her grand kids were her favorite. I could smell breakfast cooking the more he spoke. I watched my Paw Paw walk over the oven and get the biscuits out for Maw Maw as I set the table. I had to drag myself back into the present before I slipped completely from the message. He spoke of different churches he's been a part of over the years and how each one held a special place in his heart. He then said, that as grown man today, he loved coming to New Welcome Church because he loved each and every one of us. He loved just coming to the House of the Lord.

He wasn't saying it for fluff, he wasn't saying it because he wanted something in return, he meant it. Tears rolled slowly down like the morning dew on blades of grass and I had soaked my single tissue. I left there feeling really good, refreshed, revived. After spending years in and out of silent churches, where no one says anything out of turn, the man on the second pew is guaranteed to sleep through every single service and leaving not sure I even heard the message...I am Blessed beyond to have arrived here. Where I know that if I can't see church, I'll hear it...if I can't hear church, I'll feel it. All those years, I rambled around looking, and it was right here all along. I just had no idea.

1 comment:

  1. Could feel the spirit as I read this thank you for the share

    ReplyDelete