My Before and After for College Park Baptist

This fall at College Park, the series of sermons were based on short stories by Jesus.  We, the congregation, were invited to write our own "before and after" stories about our faith.  I have been attending church there since this summer and I decided to write my own story.  And, I had the privilege to share my story with the congregation during worship service a few weeks ago.  Here is my story:


I am a creature of habit.  Every morning after I wake up, I make my coffee, check my

email, check my Facebook and do a crossword puzzle.  The art of the routine is never lost on me

and I take comfort in it.  And I can say without doubt that my being a creature of habit began at

church. 

 I grew up in Monroe, NC and attended the First Baptist Church of Monroe.  I was at

church, barring illness or tragedy, every Sunday for the first 18 years of my life.  My Mom had

been a member of First Baptist her entire life and my Grandmother had been attending since

1933.  Going there was tradition.  More importantly, though, I knew the tradition of

Grandmother’s pew.  If I was not singing in the choir or playing handbells, I was sitting on the

5^th pew on the right side of the congregation.  That was my Grandmother’s pew and we sat there

every Sunday.  I don’t know why she had chosen that particular pew but I never questioned it. 

And neither did anyone else.  If she found anyone seated in her spot on the pew, she never made

a fuss or asked them to move.  She just sat further down the pew in a polite, albeit sometimes

begrudgingly manner, with a smile on her face, that unreadable southern belle smile that either

says “You’re welcome here” or “I just let all the air out of your tires.”   We all know that smile. 

Usually, it was a newcomer to the church that did not know that was Mrs. Laney’s pew.  But

word would get around and they never sat there a second time, unless invited by Grandmother

herself.

After I left for college, my attendance at church began to dwindle.  Being away from

home for the first time in my life, I was out to have the college experience and church just did

not seem to fit into that.  Of course, I would attend when I went back home for the occasional

weekend visit. I even came here to College Park a few times my freshman year.   It didn’t stick

though.  I had a lot on my mind during those years but church and God were not high on my list

of priorities.  Then, during the February of my junior year, I got the phone call.  The late night

phone call that everyone fears because you know it’s either a wrong number or bad news.  You

hope for the former but most always it is the latter.  Only my case was worse.  I was out having

the college experience and I missed that phone call.  It was around 1:30 am when I returned to

my dorm room and my roommate told me to call home no matter what time I got in.  I stopped in

my tracks because I knew what had happened.  I called home to have my Dad tell me that Mom

passed away a few hours earlier.  I was beyond devastated.  The woman who had given me life

no longer had hers.

I can honestly say that was the hardest week of my life.  Neither before nor since have I

wept so much.  And I became angry at God because I felt that He had abandoned her.  She spent

her entire life devoted to the church and when she needed Him the most, He let her down.  I felt

that He had abandoned me as well.  I did not feel as though I could turn to Him to seek comfort

and guidance during that time.  Even with all of the family and friends around, I was extremely

lonely.  The one that I had counted on did not come through and I did not know where to turn. 

My anger eventually subsided and became more of a kind of indifference.  My attendance at

church became sparser and after Grandmother died, I stopped going altogether.  I started to view

the church as a facility for weddings and funerals and not much more than a country club for

Jesus.  I prayed only when I needed something from God.  The years went on and the distance

between me and God, in my mind, grew wider with each year.  I didn’t realize at the time that I

was on my own journey, unknowingly being guided by His hands.

Sunday, July 5^th, 2015, would have been my Grandmother’s 106^th birthday.  I decided that

this year I wanted and needed to do something to honor her and for some reason I thought about

our pew at First Baptist.  After all of my ups and downs in life, I still took great comfort in the

memories of sitting with her in her pew.  So, I decided that, just this once, I would go to church

on her birthday.  I’ve had many friends who have attended College Park throughout the years and

after having my coffee and doing a crossword puzzle, I checked CP’s Facebook page and

decided that was where I was going.  My Grandmother would be thrilled I picked another Baptist

church!

That entire first Sunday here was mind blowing to me.  Everyone was so welcoming. 

Everything about the service touched me in some way.  I wasn’t use to that kind of church

experience.  It was all so genuine.  The music.  The children’s sermon.  The prayers.  I found

myself actually listening and paying attention to the sermon, something I didn’t do much

growing up.  And the longer I sat there, I started to feel a change.  It was as if a weight was being

lifted off of my shoulders.  I was relaxed yet so energized inside.  I was hopeful

again.  I felt something in my soul I had never felt before.  There was a light inside that hadn’t

been there before.  I felt like the Grinch Who Stole Christmas.  And it wasn’t a fluke.  I came

back the next Sunday and the next and each time was the same, only better.  I finally realized that

God had sent me on a journey.  He knew what I needed to do and gave me the tools to bring me

here today.

 A few weeks back, as we sang “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” I used every fiber of my being

not to break down in tears because that was the first time I had sung that hymn since my Mom’s

funeral almost 20 years ago.  As I listened to the music, I looked around at the congregation and I

knew God had led me home.  And, even though I’m new here, in the tradition of my

Grandmother, I have my pew here at College Park:  the 3^rd row of the back right section of the

congregation.   It’s the first pew I sat in here and I’ve been there ever since.  Phyllis sits in front

of me.  Titus, Leanne and Lewis sit behind me.  I’m happy to share the pew with anyone, but

that’s where you’ll find me on Sunday mornings because I am, after all, a creature of habit.