The little church I attended
was way down by the creek.
But I never missed a Sunday
it was the highlight of my week.
Very early Sunday mornings
I would jump out of bed.
Have breakfast with the family
after the blessing was said.
Then we loaded the pickup truck
with the children in the back.
We traveled down the dusty road
across the railroad track.
The old wooden church was shabby
but my heart was joyful and free.
When we gathered in that place
it was like a down home jubilee.
We would sing, clap and pray
and oh did we sing loud.
It was only a few dozen people
but it sounded like a crowd.
People came to give God thanks
and testify to each other.
We were one big, happy family
of Christian sisters and brothers.
Then when church let out
and the fellow-shipping was done.
There was joy and laughter in the air
that was shared by everyone.
If only we could return again
to the way church use to be.
People’s lives would be changed
and the captives would be set free.
~ Lenora McWhorter ~
Copyright © 2011
All Rights Reserved
[ by: Lenora McWhorter, Copyright © 2011 ( email@example.com ) -- submitted by: Lenora McWhorter ]