My Home Church
I've been throwing the title term around pretty often lately as I've introduced myself to countless new faces while on the road support-raising. Today though, I had the privilege of sharing the work I've been called to do in the Dominican Republic with "my home church."
I wasn't baptized there, but I've been a member since age 3. I have a stash of Sunday school attendance pins (remember those?!?) that go all the way back to Little Lambs. I wiggled through day school chapels every Friday in the scarlet-cushioned pews I was facing. I've probably read every line of Luke 2 from that lectern by the time you count all the Christmas programs I've been in. I was confirmed mere feet from where I was standing. I've perfected the technique of "floofing" the enormous trees that adorn the chancel area behind me every Advent and Christmas. I can pin on a boutonniere like a pro after all the weddings I've coordinated at the altar to my left.
You get the idea. St. Paul's Lutheran Church in Des Peres, MO, has welcomed me, instructed me, prayed for me, encouraged me, listened to me, and challenged me. Today, it got to send me. I'm eternally grateful for the church family that has seen me grow...no, grown me...into Christian womanhood, and for the fact that it'll always be my home church.
I wasn't baptized there, but I've been a member since age 3. I have a stash of Sunday school attendance pins (remember those?!?) that go all the way back to Little Lambs. I wiggled through day school chapels every Friday in the scarlet-cushioned pews I was facing. I've probably read every line of Luke 2 from that lectern by the time you count all the Christmas programs I've been in. I was confirmed mere feet from where I was standing. I've perfected the technique of "floofing" the enormous trees that adorn the chancel area behind me every Advent and Christmas. I can pin on a boutonniere like a pro after all the weddings I've coordinated at the altar to my left.
You get the idea. St. Paul's Lutheran Church in Des Peres, MO, has welcomed me, instructed me, prayed for me, encouraged me, listened to me, and challenged me. Today, it got to send me. I'm eternally grateful for the church family that has seen me grow...no, grown me...into Christian womanhood, and for the fact that it'll always be my home church.
Until next time, blessings!
P.S. Photo credit goes to my dad. It's hard to document my support-raising adventures when I'm behind a microphone all the time!
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