Two Golden Days

by Donna Poole

Close your eyes. Open them. You’re at a tiny, white frame church on the corner of two dirt roads watching a young couple get out of their car. He carries a big, black Bible. She carries a tiny, almost two-year old girl with golden curls and a mischievous smile. The date is July 7, 1974. This young family has lived in Michigan all of four days.

Look at them walk up to the heavy wooden doors of the church. They look a bit like hippies; he has long sideburns. A few months earlier a little boy, a stranger to him, asked with awe, “Are you Elvis?” She has long hair hanging to her waist and wears no paint, no polish.

They look braver than they feel, those two twenty-five-year-olds. They are embarking on a journey that will last longer than they expect. He’s the brand-new pastor of a country church, Lickley’s Corners Baptist. He mispronounces the name of it in his first sermon, and the people gently correct him. It won’t be the last time the people correct him, but those first people, the sweet farm people, will always be gentle.

She has no clue how to be a pastor’s wife. Her views don’t always match his. This troubles him more than it does her. She takes one look at the farm fields surrounding the church, and at the sweet country people inside of it, and she knows she’s home.

Close your eyes. Open them. You’re at the same white church on the corner of two dirt roads, but it’s fifty years later. The building looks a bit different. The outhouse out back is gone. There’s running water now, inside bathrooms, and a fellowship hall. If you look up at the white clouds rushing by in the blue sky, perhaps you’ll catch a glimpse of smiling faces looking down, because most of the saints who welcomed that pastor and wife fifty years ago are now in heaven. They aren’t here to celebrate that couple’s fiftieth anniversary of coming to the church; or are they? Perhaps God lets them see what their courage, faith, and vision have become.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. It’s still a very small church on the corner of two dirt roads. It will never be a mega church, but that’s okay; it doesn’t want to be.

What has that church seen in fifty years? It has seen a pastor and wife grow up, or at least begin to. It’s seen them change from a family of three to a family of twenty-five: four married children and fifteen grandchildren. That church has seen people come and people go. It has seen people accept Jesus as Savior from sin and be baptized. It has seen Sundays with full pews and Sundays with sparse attendance. It has seen births and deaths, laughter and tears, sin and forgiveness. It has seen a pastor and wife smile, sob, and sniffle…but the smiles won.

This weekend the church and the new fellowship hall are full. The parking lot is packed, and a few cars and trucks are parked on the dirt road. It’s a golden Jubilee; they are celebrating the pastor and wife’s fifty years at the church. Their family and their church family have worked hard to honor them and to praise God this weekend. They’ve cleaned, decorated, sent invitations, ordered a plaque, prepared a video presentation, planned a gift, and done so much more! In a word, they’ve sacrificed, something this little church is known for.

The decorations are beautiful, and so is the cake. There are cookies and punch, a beautiful plaque and a presentation, a money tree and cards with gifts tucked inside. And there is love and laughter, so much love and laughter.

A few “girls” from the first youth group, almost as old as the pastor and his wife, drive many miles to come, and so does a high school friend of the pastor’s wife. People from present and past congregations blend, talking and laughing. Beloved friends of many years walk through the door, smiling. So many people, so many hugs, handshakes, sweet words. So much joy! Their photographer daughter documents the day.

And then comes Sunday, a Sunday like the pastor and wife had never had before. Their grown son leads the singing, and their daughter-in-law plays the piano. The church building is full, and the hymns go right through the roof and straight up into heaven. The testimonies of love for the pastor and his wife are wonderful. And when their dear friend, with tears running down his face, asks the congregation to join him as he sings his special, “I Saw Jesus in You,” the pastor and his wife know they will never forget this day.

But already, though only a few days have passed, they can’t remember much of what people said to them. The pastor’s wife remembers one thing distinctly. A new, young pastor said to her, “I’ve only known three pastors no one has ever said one bad word about. And one of them is your husband.”

She couldn’t help it. She was tired. And when she’s tired, she laughs. So, she laughed and said to him, “Well, then, Matt, you haven’t been talking to the right people.”

Some sage said, “Everyone who has a dog who loves him needs a cat who hates him.” I suppose that’s true. It’s good for humility. If I told you everyone who had ever attended that country church loved the pastor and his wife, lightning might strike my keyboard. But they are grateful for every person, the ones who loved them, and the ones who served up broiled pastor for Sunday dinner. God used them all to help that couple learn to cling to him.

No one needs fear the pastor and wife will get proud after the wonderful two-day celebration their dear church gave them. If they’ve learned one thing in fifty years, they’ve learned this. Any good they’ve done has been God doing it through them.

Feeling happy and loved, they went to bed when the weekend ended. They pictured each beloved face that had been present and searched for vocabulary words beautiful enough to express gratitude, but none were good enough. And so, they prayed, “Please, bless them, Lord. Bless them everyone.”

Then they took one last look at all the beautiful sacrificial love that had been heaped on them. It glowed in the night, a golden ball, too precious to keep for themselves. They handed it up to their Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, who made the fifty years happen. He took it with a smile but let some gold dust drift down on their pillows.

“Sleep, my children,” he whispered. “You will need strength for difficult days yet to come. There will still be births and deaths, laughter and tears, sin and forgiveness. You will still smile, sob, and sniffle, but I promise you this; laughter will win in the end.”  

The end

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These blogs are now available in book form on Amazon:

Backroad Ramblings Volume One: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter

Backroad Ramblings Volume Two: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter

Backroad Ramblings Volume Three: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter

Backroad Ramblings Volume Four: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter

I have six other books on Amazon as well, four fiction books in the “Life at the Corners” series, and two children’s Christmas picture books.

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