The aroma of an old country church, the soothing creaks of wooden pews, the smiles of old and new friends, and the piety of old Methodist hymns welcomed me to church this morning. I was home.
I have been working on a training/documentary on Insights Into Aging Parents and Loss. As I wrote about the life of my father, as well as his death, I realized that I wanted to record the video at the last church my dad served and the church that was pivotal in my spiritual journey.
When you visit a small town and walk into a little country church, you feel like a celebrity. It is quite noticeable when there are visitors. Bill and I were welcomed with smiles, hugs, and warm encouragement. Lytton Springs United Methodist Church welcomed us with open arms and were excited to hear that their little church would be included in a training video that would reach much farther than their little church in their little town.
Several of the members of the church recalled memories of when my father was the pastor there. One lady exclaimed, Your dad may have come in a suit but he was country. He was country. I had never heard my dad described that way before but it was fitting.
As we started to sing the old Cokesbury hymns I was reminded of my mother's beautiful voice singing those hymns and a few of them reminded me of my grandmother when she would sing. Towards the end of the service a gentleman showed me that Mom and Dad had donated the hymnals. I guess Dad wanted the older hymnals to be available and after several songs a woman in the back row yelled out, Pastor Stone taught us to sing these hymns.