I was raised in a small rural college town of Western Massachusetts- 10 minutes from the Vermont state line. My family attended the First Congregational Church with some resemblance of regularity, and I was even confirmed as an early teen, albeit dragging my feet to the weekly lessons. Growing up, I felt like we were considered "a church going" family.
Services were held in an old and very typical, white clapboard New England church. The sanctuary was and still is an architectural masterpiece, light, airy, vast, vaulted ceiling with intricately carved details. The carpet was a crimson red, and everything was painted crisp, pure white. As is the case with many old New England churches, the pews, or Prayer Boxes, were enclosed with a wooden door that was held securely closed with a simple wraught iron latch. The pew was more bench-like and had matching long, worn crimson cushions. The minister's pulpit was at the front and center, elevated above the congregation. A free standing marble christening bowl flanked the staircase to the pulpit on the left and a grand piano on the right. An organ occupied the upper balcony (behind the congregation)where the choir sang...At least those are my memories of what it was like.
As my siblings and I got older, it seems that our Sundays at church were more hit and miss. We definitely were devout about attending at Christmas and Easter, but the weekly routine and "way of life" was basically foreign to me until I was saved MANY years later. I am thankful for my deeply blessed and very charmed childhood, and, although I didn't recognize it at the time, I am grateful that my parents took me to church as a child - for that's where my seed was first planted.
Upon moving south and west. To Texas...part of the famed Bible Belt, I was introduced to a Jesus that I really never fully knew. I was saved in the winter of 1991 in East Texas at one of the evening services of The Church of God. I had never known the word pentacostal, not to mention the feeling that I experienced when I attended a church where people were there to "be fed", and not just there because it was a Sunday routine. My life changed that evening and even though I am NOT perfect, I have made major mistakes in my life and I have fallen away from God in my years since...I now know that I know that I know who "my Jesus" is and have seen His mighty hand move in my life and have felt His love, peace, comfort and grace in my life. Each day begins with His word, His truths, His promises and through daily thanksgiving and prayer, he has carried me through some immensely dark times. I love My Jesus, I need My Jesus and I don't know how people last one day in this corrupt, evil world without Jesus by their side. To any of my readers...if you are not saved, or do not know My Jesus, I am here to tell you that, with Christ, you are not immune to difficult times, struggles and pain, HOWEVER, everything is made possible, and right, and true, and good with Jesus Christ as your Savior...Please let me know if I can introduce you to Jesus. Your life will change forever and your hope, peace, and spirit will be restored like you could never imagine.
I am so thankful for "the 3rd day" and for what Jesus endured for me. I hope and pray that more people come to know Him and truly understand what Easter is all about.
May God richly bless each and everyone of you. Give thanks, even when you feel like giving up, hold on to His word, even though you don't feel Him there and KNOW that He loves you and cares about you more than you will ever know! Remember, He does his best work in the dark! Don't forget, the "teacher" is supossed to be silent during the test (and boy oh boy, are we put to some rigorous tests in this life on Earth!) GOD BLESS YOU!
