When I was a little girl, it was the norm for most families to go to church on sunday mornings, sunday nights and wednesday nights. Although I don’t agree with everything that went along with the “Baptist movement of the 80’s”, I do have many fond memories as a family attending our church services. Even after leaving the house and living on my own, I still held the “tradition” of going to each service. As life got busier with the kids starting school, me working full-time and various other things, somehow the commitment was gone.
Every once in a while I’ll stop in and visit my dad’s church. Last night was one of them. I can’t really put into words the experience that I come away with everytime I go. They recently started providing a meal before the “prayer meeting service” on wednesday nights. What a blessing it is to so many people. It was nice to just sit and fellowship with others while the kids are welcome to eat and play.
An hour later the service started. I just stood and took it in. The people are so genuine there. Their faith is real, their love is deep.
I’m unsure of the fond memories my boys will look back on from their childhood. I pray its nights like this.