A People and a Place I Love

There was a place, supposedly, that was my home. I was born and grew up in that Southern place. My family was great, but that place, not so much. I heard it said that home is where your story began. But honestly, that place was never really home to me. There is a neighborly place, saturated with love and grace. It's a church community in a river city of trees, situated In a valley of beautiful sunrises and sunsets between The High Sierras, Lake Tahoe, and The Deep Blue Sea. Sure, we were looking for a new church home, But I was not in a hurry and did not want to go there. For years, after going, I never really wanted to be there. For years, I was uninvolved and behaved like one who didn't care. And then, that friendly church became a place like none other. Like being knitted together with family, a sister, or a brother. Like a place of renowned, to cherish and to treasure. When I think about our 28 years there, I realize it was the dearest. A place where success was rewarded, and failure did not cause one 'To be less than', to run, to hide, to pretend, or to feel disregarded. A place where rejected and weak ones can once again become strong. A place, not about who's right or wrong, but about finding where one belongs. A place where one could say, "Leave me alone", and not fear being left alone. O, you may say it's time to move on and find a new place to roam. Make no Mistake, We have moved on; but 'that pastor' will aways be 'my pastor', And 'that church' will always be 'my church'. 031722PS