Take me to church.

I was raised by church goers who were raised by church goers who were…… well, you get my drift.

The Wilkersons lived directly across the road from First Baptist Myrtle Mo. We walked to church….no need to drive. My parents were pillars of the church. Daddy was raised a Baptist and mother was raised a Methodist/Baptist because her church (New Salem) decided to rotate, using literature alternately. Pastors would come and go but they stuck with the plan …which, by the way, was in my opinion brilliant and way before its time….. (but that’s for another blog)

My point being, they attended church “every time the doors were open.” I’ve often wondered why that phrase only describes churches and families of the past. I’ve come to the conclusion that there are several reasons. One of which is the busyness of our lives. My parents and my siblings weren’t distracted by an activity every night. Never would a ballgame or practice be held on Sunday and teachers gave no homework on Tuesday and gave no tests on Thursday, Sunday and Wednesday attendance was, as they say, wide open.

The other reason for lagging attendance might just be our affinity for recreation and travel. My folks were middle class. Vacations were rare if not nonexistent. It seems that in today’s current climate, the more you have, the more you travel. Don’t misunderstand…..I love a good vacation, but maybe not every weekend, ha…and no, I’m not bitter, ha 😂

So….here we are. Trying to encourage attendance. Trying to model for our children and grandchildren the importance of church attendance when their lives are so very busy and so cluttered with what seems to be required events of every kind. None are inherently bad…..in fact, many are positive and enriching…. but clutter they do. Sometimes our families are so busy during the week that Sunday is simply the only time they can rest and catch a breath. I so understand.

But let me throw out a couple of words to encourage attending.

When Jack and I moved to Jonesboro we knew NOBODY. I was starting my graduate degree at Astate and Jack was beginning his career at Osborn and Osborn. We made both work and school friends but were hesitant to jump into church membership. There were so many choices! We were young, newly married and our lives seemed full.

But I knew we needed a church family. That’s how I was raised. I visited several churches trying to find a “fit”….all of them were great congregations, I was just unsure where to go.

Then a knock on my door.

It was Sandra Lusby. She was on her bicycle with toddler Ted riding along. I had filled out a visitor card (do we even have those now?) and Emil Williams, God rest his beautiful soul, had read it (as he did every visitor card) and instructed Sandra to follow up and pay me a visit.

You didn’t say no to Emil. 😂

So we visited a while that day…..and she invited me some sort of party. I honestly can’t remember if it was Mary K or tupperware 😂. …..given by a fellow church member. Then she invited me to go with her to BYW (Baptist Young Women) held at Angie Schmidt’s home. I really liked these people and they were so welcoming. I could see a place for me and for Jack with these kind, welcoming folks.

The rest is history.

By the way that was in 1984. We’ve never doubted our decision and the church’s impact on our lives.

And before you say it……..church membership isn’t salvation and it won’t get you to heaven. But it sure makes the path clearer.

Let me list a few Callahan experiences.

1. Chase and Carter both accepted Christ and were baptized at FBC. Precious Sunday schools teachers and Bible school workers were there for my boys and I’ll never be able to repay them.
2. In 1997 I was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer and was pretty sure I was going to die . My church, specifically Audri Waddell, was there for my little boys (who were 5 and 9) while I was in treatment in Houston. Audri and our children’s minister had a schedule to get the boys to church on Wednesday nights and help Jack who was trying to manage tax season and a sick wife. The church wrapped it’s arms around my family. I’ll never forget it. Never.
3. We PRIORITIZED youth activities for our boys and made sure they attended summer camps and mission trips. Those experiences, along with each person involved, made a huge difference in their lives. I will always credit youth ministers and workers for helping make my boys who they are today.
4. After the death of our parents and my siblings, my “church” friends filled the gap. supporting us during weddings and showers, funerals and everything in between. They were and still are our family.

All of this leads me to what’s been on my mind this week…..and precipitated this long winded blog post.

My Sunday School class.

Yes, FBC stills calls it SUNDAY school and it still meets, oddly enough, on SUNDAY. 😅 Our class is close. Are we all best friends? Probably not, but we are glued together through our common belief and like-mindedness. Most of us are retired (not Jack because he’ll never quit working) and as with age….prayer lists grow every week.

We celebrate grand children together and brag unashamedly about them. We pray for them. We have lots of ailments and surgeries and loss and we pray about each of them. We communicate with one another about them and support, as best we can, each one of our members and those connected to them..

We are family.

Here’s my heart

For me……last Sunday was special. Our class had been praying for a member who recently had an organ transplant. Every Sunday we heard reports of his health. Our prayers followed every triumph and disappointment during the long difficult process.

We gathered together this past week for a potluck fellowship after worship. There were probably 50? of us laughing, talking, sharing a meal…..it was so special.

But then..

The entire class walked together, across the street, to the home of our friend who had completed the organ transplant. He had been allowed a few days at home before heading back to Dallas to complete his recovery.

I simply cannot adequately express my emotion as we walked together, as a family to his door and applauded his survivorship and God’s grace. I’m tearing up now just typing this. … trust me. It was special.

During this simple walk, wave and prayer, I felt an indescribable feeling of family. A church family. As I said before, like mindedness. A feeling of unity in spirit and faith.

I was overwhelmed.

So……I hope this blog expresses how I feel about my church. I KNOW many of you have the exact same feeling about your churches and that makes me so happy for you… What I really want to say is, if you DON’T have this feeling go search for it. You need it. Your family needs it. Your life will be better for it.

It takes showing up. Consistent showing up.

So friends….show up. Invest in your church. Recommit yourself. Find out what you can do for your church, not just what they can do for you… (JKF quote there)……Bells and whistles are nice, but relationships are even nicer.

Do it.