A current popular song tells of a girl returning to her childhood home asking the owner if she can come in and see the house where she grew up. She tells of hand prints in cement and back bedrooms where she learned to play music and how her daddy built the house of her momma's dreams. She sings of the "House that Built Me."
In December, I was blessed to return to Big Spring, Texas - where I grew up. We were moving our friends there - okay, that's sad - but in doing so, I was able to return to the church that built me.
The church where I first met Jesus.
The church where I first felt the Holy Spirit draw me to his side.
The church where I was baptized.
It is now the Spanish Assembly of God in town. Luckily, the ladies of the church where there organizing a banquet for the next day and they allowed me to walk through with Marilyn, Chris and Ashley.
Front Row, Organ Side
I often stacked hymnals to make Barbie an apartment during long Sunday night services.
This is the place I gave my heart to Jesus.
It's also the place where I first received the gift of tongues.
The shelf my dad had built on the pulpit to hold the microphone stand and annointing oil are still there. There was once a sign he taped to where he could read every service:
"Give These People Jesus"
My Kids in My Church.
I've played hours of hide-and-seek around that sign!
I also spent hours "flying" a spaceship - most people called it the air conditioner compressor. I knew that we blew the compressor at least once by flipping the switch off and on as we flew on missions around the earth.
My daddy planted the all the trees.
See the scratches on this pew. Ever think of all the hands and baby teeth that were cut on those
pews. A heritage.