Living Timeline | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Living Timeline | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jennifer Percell
05/04/22
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Living Timeline

Deep purple Lilacs line the driveway of a farmyard west of the road. The barn on the east side has overseen more spring plantings than anyone still alive in this county. I am quite sure descendants of the farmers who built that barn still carry the name and till the land. Four-wheelers and John Deere combines are new to the scene but little else has changed in a very long time. We drive an hour into the countryside, remarking on the occasional hawk or handsome yearlings, letting the country roads swallow the cacophony of media that assaulted us back at home.

Alanthus Grove Missouri comes into view just a few miles past Stanberry. I can see a repair shop and about a half dozen houses, but the obvious focal point of the settlement is the church. A clean white country church with a modest steeple. The 12-15 cars in the grass around the building indicate a good attendance at the Meeting, a tradition held every spring and fall for longer than anyone can say.

Warm air smelling faintly of mold, old coffee and Pledge greet us. Friendly hands offer firm welcome and broad smiles make it clear that visitors are appreciated here. As we slide into the worn pews I feel a familiar sense of calm. Here is a place of safety, a soothing fellowship of the faithful.

“Are you one of the Eagleville Percell’s? We knew Dean.” “Do you know my sister? She attended the church in St. Joseph?”. With all the connections made, we gain a deeper sense of belonging. As we lay coats over pew backs and settle in, I see a living timeline of generations, centuries of God’s people gathering in small villages in every culture, in every language, humble people, country people, my people.

Talk of rainfall, crops and grandchildren fade as the song leader makes his way to the front. I reach for the worn copy of Sacred Selections and begin to flip through the pages. So many years ago the joy and wonder in the songs filled me with my first real taste of God’s glory. The realization that people sat together and sang words of hope and peace shattered the cynicism that had already burned my young soul. Before I understood a word of a sermon I would copy words of songs to read and reread all through the week until I could be in this safe place again. Fifty years of faith had not dulled the joy of the hymnal. No band or praise chorus will ever be more beautiful than the hoarse old voices that break out in song around me. The pain and stress of many recent days melt away as I visualize that music saturate and calm every cell in my body.

Many songs follow, genuine prayers are led by strong men made gentle by their love of Jesus. There is a lesson about how our vital faith and honest prayers truly will move mountains, as all of us have witnessed. Time proven scripture is read with the passion of hearts that no longer see dull words on the page but instead the living, breathing hope they count on.

My thoughts wander to my grandson who had commented on my hands a few days earlier.
“Grandma, your hands are really old.” I glance at the old hands that hold the Bible in the pew in front of me. Speckled with age spots and blue with weakened veins, those hands are really old too, they likely untied apron strings an hour ago and buttoned a spring jacket to ‘go to Meeting’. I can see them rolling out pies, feeding livestock, soothing babies, figuring the books and always coming back to holding that Bible.

These people, in this room, have walked the Way, loved the Truth and lived real Life. We may not have come, last night we stayed home because of the rain. Had we stayed home tonight our loss would have been great.

Since Jesus gathered crowds of everyday people and shared the Story with them, simple people have gathered to pass the torch of Light. Common people, common lives, meet in the love of the Church, the Bride of Christ. My breath catches at the thought that I could miss the glory here, the glory of God in His people. May I never forget that it is my greatest honor to bear the legacy I find in this holy country church.

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