“Where Do You Go to
Church?”
This past week end we had the opportunity to visit with some
beloved college friends. They live in southern Alabama, known for its hot humid
weather this time of year. We were lucky to arrive during a blessed reprieve of
low humidity, gentle breezes, and mild temperatures. On Sunday morning we awoke
early, grabbed our coffees and headed for the patio. Our plan was to relax a
bit before heading to church. So, we sat beneath the cloudless blue sky and the
swaying pines and reminisced. We shared stories about grandchildren and
chuckled (sort of) as we shared anecdotes of aging. Conversation flowed, and
the desire to dress and leave for church was definitely waning. Our hostess
felt our hesitancy and asked, “What would you like to do?” Feeling the need to
defer to our hosts, we said, “We’re happy to do whatever you like.” She
responded, “Well, we can go, or we can spend the morning here if you like.” Not
wanting to be the decision maker I replied, “We would love to visit your church,
but you don’t get a morning like this very often.” Agreement resounded, and second cups of
coffee were poured.
Nature alone had provided an exquisite view from the patio,
but my friend had enhanced it with large pots of colorful, butterfly attracting
flowers and various bird feeders. We now had entertainment. Huge, colorful
butterflies fluttered over her zinnias (I’m planting some tomorrow.) and a
glorious variety of birds-cardinals, finches, blue jays, hummingbirds, and a
woodpecker- fed at the troughs.
Eventually, conversation went to the trees. Our hillside was
quiet, and you could actually hear the pines swish as they swayed with each
gentle breeze. Their sway was hypnotizing and calming, and at that moment, I
felt in communion with God. My friend began to speak of each tree as if she
knew each one. There were hundreds. “The woodpecker always sits in that one...
See that stump, year before last that tree had no leaves, and the next year it
was dead. We had to take it down… See that weeping willow at the edge of the
pond. It was hidden until the other tree came down…Those are sycamores over
there next to my crepe myrtles. They haven’t been looking well…”
As she spoke of each one, I felt God speaking
to me. His word was in my head.
Luke
12:7
And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.
And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.
I’d heard it my whole life, but
suddenly I understood how that could be. And, I didn’t feel so bad about
missing church.
