Route 95

Forty-five years ago I attended my grandfather's funeral in a small South Georgia (USA) church on a hot summer day. The nearest thing to air condition was the fans the funeral home provided. I remember at the end of the service crying as the Hearst, carrying the body of my grandfather, pulled away from the front of the church. My heart was broken. At the age of six I never dreamed that I would stand and preach to a group of people in that same church building.

But again, 15 years later, I traveled 200 miles to that South Georgia town to preach. It was so hot that day that the pastor of the church compared it with hell by saying "hell will be hotter than this." It was a great opportunity for me to preach in the church that my grandparent's use to attend.

This past week I traveled back to that same South Georgia town, walked back into that building, this time not to attend my grandfather's funeral, nor to preach as a young preacher, but to finalize the sell of the church property for the organization in which I am a part of. The church congregation had relocated and the money from the sell of the property will be used to improve the facility they are now using.

This is a new chapter in the life of this church, and I truly believe is a great move for this church. I am convinced that the building served it's purpose for the organization that I am a part of and it was time to release it for someone else to carry on the work in that community. I am thankful that I had the privilege to be a part of this transition. I journeyed back by the building one last time to give thanks to God for the many lives that had been changed during the time that we had this facility. I stood at the altar and asked God's blessings on the next group. I drove away feeling that this is a new beginning for the existing congregation that relocated as well as for this community. I know that somehow in God's sovereignty He has a plan.

This journey that God has us on may take us on a detour from time to time but some how we always seem to come back to our roots. If I live to be 95 (45 years from now), I wonder where this journey will take me - probably to the Nursing Home :)

"Lord, make me to know my end,And what is the measure of my days, That I may know how frail I am..." (Psalm 39:4 NKJV).