Last Sunday, it seemed like we were at church all day. And I guess we were...Ken had deacon duty so we got there early. We stayed late because there were folks to talk to. Went back early that afternoon to practice my flute with our young, talented harpist...then stayed after to catch up with a few other precious people. There were two humbling, meaty sermons sandwiched in there, along with the music and fellowshipping. The day was balmy and full of spring-promise. I felt like the church was about to bust wide open, there was so much heartwarming love and care all around. Everybody's just thrilled to be alive, this spring of 2021. We've been at this church home for about 15 years, a place where God is viewed with awe and reverence, the Word is preeminent and the people are kind and not gossipy. It's not heaven but it's close. The older I get, the more I appreciate the body of Christ, even with its warts and flaws. There's folks that won't go to church...they say it's full of hypocrites. It's true, and I am one. We all are. Jesus said that he came for the sick (sin-sick), and that's why I'm there.
We're still on baby watch for our dear daughter, where the burden of walking is becoming more challenging each day. Last Friday night, some of my family strolled down to the Mill for a concert with the Carrollton Jazz Orchestra (a pop-up event sponsored by Main Street, thank you so much!). It got colder by the minute, but I can't describe how much we enjoyed it. The kids whooped and hollered and danced. We walked down to Los Cowboys, waited a (very fun) hour, spent talking and laughing with our people, then ate great food and felt pampered by the staff there. We kept saying that the Jazz was gonna call that baby on out, but alas, he's still not here. Either way, it was a memorable night, another to add to our happy decision to move to downtown Villa Rica nine years ago. I always thought I was just a country girl, but I'm loving being a Townie after all. Good night, VR...
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