It is Good to go Back, Sandra [non fiction books to read txt] 📗

It’s Good To Go Back!!

The old stairs creaked under my weight as I walked up to the old gray weather worn door. This was the church where I first heard of Jesus. I smiled as I turned the glass door knob and entered into the dimly lit room. Cobwebs, dust, and broken pews greeted me. However, everything was the same as I remembered, only smaller. I could almost see the Sisters still as they sang in the choir. We had a heavy set woman that sang with the Sisters and she could put the fear of God in you with her voice. Back then we didn’t have an organ or a drum. Everyone sang and stayed in tune by tapping their feet. I could almost hear the sweet melody of “Amazing Grace” as the memories returned.

Slowly, I walked the short distance to the choir box. From here I could look out over the small congregation. It was a small church with only six pews, but, they were always full every Sunday Morning. Sunday’s were always a day of gathering for the small black farm community. We were all family, but there was just something about Sundays. Maybe it was the food or maybe it was the fellowship. However, remembering those times always brings a smile to my face.

I looked over at the Deacon’s corner. We only had one Deacon back then. The old Deacon always kneel down when he prayed.

“Submission to my Father!” He’d say. He was up in age and barely able to get around, yet, he still kneel down when he prayed. His voice always sent chills up my spine when he talked to God in prayer. Deacon taught us young ones that no matter what we said or did God would forgive us. He taught us never to be afraid to talk to God for He is our Dearest and Closes Friend. Deacon died a few years back, but some of his prayers and words of encouragement have stayed with me through the years.

Then there was Grandma. Grandma was everyone’s Mother. She cared for and loved us all! Grandma taught most of us our manners and to respect God’s House. We didn’t dare run, talk, or shout in church. This was hard for the Pastor loved to talk in a slow drawn out way. He always scared me when he preached for I didn’t understand that much about Jesus. I knew Jesus was someone that I wanted to know and someone I needed, but why it was so important I wouldn’t discover until later in life.

When the Pastor preached the whole congregation would sit spellbound. They would nod their heads and say, “Amen!” Then they would start to hum and clap their hands and this sweet Sweet Spirit would come all over you. No matter what you were thinking or doing when the Sweet Spirit came over you, you would stop. I remember how the older ladies would rock back-n-forth. Some would even cry! Even my Father, when he came, would smile. Then she would begin to sing, “Precious Lord” Momma had a beautiful voice and each time she sang tears would fill my eyes.

This Sweet Spirit I wanted to take with me everywhere. I guess that is why I cherish these memories. But times have changed. In a few days they will tear down this old church. They say that it is a condemned building and a danger to the community.

However, I had to come back one more time! I’m not sure why! Maybe I wanted to take a little bit more of that Sweet Spirit with me. The days of life seemed so simple back then. We laughed together. We prayed together. We cried together and we loved together as a Family of God just the way He intended. This family feeling sometimes gets lost in today’s churches. We have our grand buildings, fancy pews, three and four organs, drums, guitars, and tambourines all to help us proclaim God’s Word. But, sometimes it’s good to go back to when they baptized in the creek, when the choir sang the songs of Zion, and the Deacons really “Called Him up!”

Sometimes, it’s good to go back to when the Preacher preached and you could see his words as God spoke through him.

Sometimes, it’s good to go back to the Fellowship Dinner after church where we all ate, laughed, and talked as we watched the children laughing and playing together instead of toting hand guns, robbing, stealing, and killing each other.

Sometimes, it really is GOOD to go back!

Now the time had come, I had to leave that little old church on the hill, so I closed the door one last time. No longer would this building exist. It was now but a memory only in my mind.

However, I didn’t feel sad or empty. I didn’t feel like crying. I guess I came back to get one last piece of that Love and that Sweet Spirit.

That Sweet Spirit. There is nothing like the Holy Spirit of God to comfort you and keep you. There is nothing like being in the loving arms of protection of the Almighty God. His Sweet Spirit lives in each of us once we accept His Gift of Salvation becoming His Child.

I smiled as I got into my car and drove away. The old gray church building faded in the distant now just a memory in my mind. But, that Sweet Spirit, that Love from when I first believed will always be a part of me. This Love and Spirit I will share everywhere I go. I smiled as I began to hum softly to myself, “Amazing Grace” as I remembered: “It’s Good To Go Back!”

Written by
Your Sister in Christ,

Text: Copyright 2011 by Sandra
Publication Date: 01-29-2011

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