The Church

I was born at King’s Daughters Hospital in Temple, Texas. My Mother was a Registered Nurse there. It was a Tuesday. Several weeks later, she and I were in church together in a small Baptist Church in rural Bell, County, Texas. My father was the pastor. I cut my teeth on a green-back Broadman Hymnal, on the back pew of that church. I have seldom missed attending church since. Church has been a part of my life. The first ten years, it was mostly sitting by my mother, singing alto with her, and playing the sticks in the Sunbeam Band. Then I joined. Since then, I have been a member of 19 churches, pastor of two, and interim pastor thirty times. I believe in the local church. I believe God has always had a people, that the New Testament church began at Pentecost (Acts 2) and that it is the church “eternal in the heavens” (2 Corinthians 5:1). I have seen most of the problems that churches have and have concluded it is because churches are made up of people, and people create problems. God must have known that, when he created us, and still we are allowed to be His church. “Till, with the vision glorious, Her longing eyes are blest, And the great Church victorious Shall be the Church at rest.”