Karen Jordan

Write Your Church Stories!

What is your favorite thing about church?

YouTube/cyndiwilkerson (Little Rock Geyer Springs First Baptist Church Adult Choir and Orchestra Promo Video 2012, music “Good Morning” by Mandisa ft TobyMac)

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1 thought on “Write Your Church Stories!”

  1. My memories of my childhood run as deep as the creeks and swimming holes I swam in as a child. The dust laden roads in the coal towns of West Virginia in the early ‘sixties are where my career as a writer was born.

    But my mama says I cut my teeth on the back of a church pew. Mama, herself, was an intercessory prayer warrior. I never knew exactly what that meant, except that it scared the living daylights out of me. A warrior. Mama was an emotional woman when it came to church. I often watched her chin quiver as she waved her hankie and hopped on one leg, getting happy up in the sanctuary.

    I’ve also seen her slain in the spirit. Laid out and glued to the floor. My sisters and I always sat on the front pew, sighing and waiting. Patiently. Daddy, too. We knew better than to bother her when she was communing with the Lord. Sometimes she laid there until every person at the altar had done found Jesus and gone home.

    Eventually the preacher leaned into Daddy and whispered, “Derrel, turn the lights out when y’all leave.”

    Once my sister looked up at me with her little green eyes teary and blinking, “You think we wore her out, Sissy?” Being the oldest, I hushed her. Told her to be still. I knew something my sister didn’t. Mama had put a roast in the oven that morning. She’d cut her time short with Lord. Mama never liked to burn her roast.

    When she finished, Mama opened her eyes, sat up, and we headed home. Nobody thought twice about it. Nobody complained. It was part of life on Sunday morning.

    Ah, yes, precious memories. How they linger.

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