It was a simple little place, out near the edge of the holler, simply known to all as “The Church”. A place to gather individually or as a family, a place to pray to the God they knew who heard and answered their prayers.
Not much to look at, just some logs for walls with openings cut into them for light, a simple roof made of shakes for keeping out the weather, and a steeple to help identify it. With an opening in the front wall that welcomed them, one and all.
Come Sunday you could see walking through the holler from all directions, that special day they’d set aside each week to pay their respects, to the One who gave them life, nourished their crops, and healed their sick, the One who had set the sun, moon, and stars in place.
And, when things happened as we know they can, they’d make a special trip out to that little place, at the edge of the holler, laying their burdens before him, asking that He might mend the wrongs, making everything right.
It was a simpler time, a smaller world, a moment where life was about waking and working, eating and sleeping, and praying, being thankful for what one had, their God, their family, and their land.
Mike simple words yet powerful words. Well done my friend!!!!