I went to the same little church, 15 miles away from my house, for 40 years.
There were many people there whom I had grown to love as family. That was before I met Sweetheart, got married and moved to Sunny Lane.
Now I go to a big church, just four miles away. It holds hundreds of people at a time—only a few of whom I know casually. The service is the same, but the atmosphere is different. I just feel kinda alone there—in the midst of all of those people.
It’s not that they are rude or that they ignore me. In fact, they smile and say hello. It may even be my fault for not getting more involved. It’s just that it’s hard to make friends with a couple of hundred people.
I was homesick for my old church. I decided that I would go back and visit my old church for a Sunday service. And so I did—last Sunday, in fact. Even though it is now 30 miles away—and in a different direction. I had visions of who I would see and what we would say. It is 11 years since I had seen those people.
As I walked through the door, I was greeted warmly with a big hug by a woman I did not recognize, even though she knew my name. Actually, I recognized her, but I didn’t know who she was. I mean I couldn’t remember how I knew her or how she fit into the scheme of things at the church. However, that didn’t stop us from having a nice little conversation about how happy we were to see each other.
On the other hand, a woman approached me at the end of the service as I was leaving. I knew her very well, but I didn’t recognize her until she told me her name. Then we had a BIG hug and a LONG conversation.
I was looking around the church during the service and saw a man I thought I remembered. It appeared that he had aged well. And it looked as though his grandchildren were with him. Well, they were his grandchildren, but the man I remembered was sitting on the other end of the pew—with gray hair and using a cane. The man I thought was him was his son, who is a younger version of him.
It was always customary for parishioners to stay, after church was over, in little groups and catch up on the latest events in their lives. Turns out I talked to four other people who had moved away from the area, but came back to the old church that day because they missed it.
There were several church members I was expecting to see, but they weren’t there, for one reason or another. And I saw some people I wasn’t expecting to see.
That reminds me of a story I had read many years ago. It was a hypothetical story about a fellow who died and went to heaven. He was surprised to see some people he wouldn’t have expected to see. He was also surprised that he didn’t see some people he was expecting. And, most of all, he was surprised that he was there.
Go figure.
Dorothy is the author of two books—“Miles and Miracles” and “Getting It All Together “. You can purchase a book or send a comment by emailing her at dorothybutzknight@gmail.com
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