On our town’s main street, stood a sturdy white church, a testimony to the faithfulness of the Baptists who had come to worship there for 120 years. Before it was built in 1833, the faithful had gathered at homes and then at the first small house of worship at a location no longer known.

On Jan. 20, 1953 - a bitterly cold night, witnesses said - a fire began, possibly in electrical wiring, and wended its way upward along the rear wall of the downtown landmark. When the flames reached the roof, it seemed as if almost every piece of lumber simultaneously ignited, shingles and steeple included.

Crowds gathered, many of them teenagers who had come downtown to their church for choir practice. They sobbed and grasped each other as they were mesmerized by the evil blaze. It was like watching someone - someone they loved - die.

As the fire nearly consumed the noble church, the bell tower gave a final gasp, a death knell, as the twisted timbers, now charcoal, let go, and the bronze bell ignobly crashed through the structure to the floor of the sanctuary. It lay among the ashes that were once pews and broken stained glass windows that formerly told favorite Bible stories and cast the light of God’s glory upon worshippers as their heads bowed in prayer Sunday mornings.

No one would ever worship again within the ashen, gaping walls. The blaze won the battle and the church was destroyed. Only the facade remained.

Over the course of several years, the new church was built brick by brick on a donated parcel outside of town. Worship was held in the humble fellowship hall until on March 20, 1960, the sanctuary was filled for the first time with the sound of people singing praises and praying.

This Sunday, within its brick and mortar walls, we will be lifting up our praises and singing songs of joy in the church to which I belong. And afterward, 50 people – some who witnessed the fire and others born only a half-decade ago – will each pull the clapper of the once-defeated bell to honor the 50 years that has passed since the tragedy, the 50 years of hope and growth, the 50 years of God’s faithfulness to us, First Baptist Church.

And I’m so thankful, for out of ashes we – God’s servants – have risen.

To all who mourn in Israel, he will give beauty for ashes, joy instead of mourning, praise instead of despair. For the Lord has planted them like strong and graceful oaks for his own glory. – Isaiah 61:3

 (See bigger photo in my photos)

I had the funniest God wink last night.

For my job, I sometimes attend municipal meetings at night. Last night I was driving back to my office after attending a town budget meeting (I think I actually dozed during it but that's a different story...) I was almost to the office and when I came to an intersection, the light was turning yellow. Being too close to jam on the brakes, I went through about 1/2 second of a red light... then spotted two police cars on the intersecting street.

Well, of course before I could say, "Oh no," they were both behind me, lights flashing, sirens wailing. I pulled over, which happened to be in front of my office. While waiting for the officer, I found my license and insurance card but couldn't find my registration.

I also had time to pray. Often when something happens to me I don't think of doing that, even though I am a prayer volunteer. So my prayer was essentially, "Thank you, Lord, for all you do for me, my wonderful life. I am so blessed. You and I both know that I went through the light and deserve a ticket so I'm not going to ask you for mercy. I just thank you for my family, my job, my church, for keeping me safe and most of all, you."

A (cute) young officer walked up to my window and I handed him the items acknowledging I was aware I had gone through the light. Meanwhile a second officer was shining his flashlight in my car I suppose looking for open liquor bottles or stolen TVs? (May I note that I think the only ticket I've gotten in 35 years of driving has been for speeding...oops.)

I couldn't find the registration so I asked if I could call my husband on my cell phone, a request that the officer pleasantly granted. I told our son I needed to talk to his father NOW because I had been pulled over. My son wondered if I was going to jail. Not yet, I told him, but to please check out the balance in his piggy bank. Anyway, my husband told me what the card looked like, where it would be and to call him back to give him the update. I found the registration and held it out the window for the officer to come retrieve (as I had been told to do).

Within about three minutes, the officer came back to the car and gave me my paperwork. "I'm only going to give you a warning. But please be more careful at stoplights because if someone started out quickly, you could get hit," he said.

Then he asked, "Where did you get the fish on the back of your car?" I told him that a wonderful woman, one of my best friends from church, had given it to me. This fish - a Christian symbol - is unusual in that it is iridescent blue rather than the usual black outline.

"Would that happen to be Ginni B--?" he asked. I looked at his name tag: B--. "Are you her nephew?" I asked. "Are you the nephew who is starting the Christian Web site store?"

"No, that's my brother," he answered. "Ginni is an incredible person, a real inspiration to me," I said. "It's been a pleasure to meet you and I'm sorry it is this way. Maybe I'll see you again."

It dawned on me later that he has actually come to our church a few times with his aunt and I had met him before, obviously under better circumstances. It was totally amazing that in our town of more than 40,000 people, I would get the one officer of 40 who would know where I got my fish.

So that is how prayer and a fish saved me from getting a traffic ticket. Very funny, Lord!

Love, rowansmom

Let us come before Him with thanksgiving, And extol Him with music and song. Psalm 95

 There are all kinds of milestones in life, good and bad, ones that elicit laughter and celebrations, others that prompt tears or regret. Some of these mile markers are public and others are only known in our own hearts and minds. The Lord knows them all. This weekend was a fifth-year anniversary of sorts for me. Let’s just say, five years ago it was a time of burying wrong things of the past and starting anew, only through God’s love and grace. What a blessed five years it has been!

 Making today, Valentine’s Day, extra special was Favorite Hymn Sunday, something new to me that had been carefully and prayerfully arranged by our Spirit-filled interim pastor and music director.

Are any of these some of your favorites?

Surely the Presence of the Lord

Come, Now is the Time to Worship

Here I am to Worship

How Great Thou Art

Shine, Jesus, Shine

This is My Father’s World

Father, I Adore You

Rock of Ages

All the Way My Savior Leads Me

Just a Closer Walk with Thee

In the Garden

He Lives

Love Lifted Me

Blessed Redeemer

Count Your Blessings

The Old Rugged Cross

Amazing Grace

Just as I am

Precious Lord, Take My Hand

I’ll Fly Away

When We All Get to Heaven

Here I am, Lord

Go, Tell it on the Mountain

Battle Hymn of the Republic

 One of the amazing traits of hymns and scripture is they can touch you one way and the next time something totally different uplifts, consoles, reveals. So in light of my “fifth anniversary,” these are some snippets that spoke to me today:

 “…Then I shall bow in humble adoration, and there proclaim, my God, how great Thou art!”

 “Blaze, Spirit, blaze. Set my heart on fire…”

 “In the rustling grass, I hear Him pass, He speaks to me everywhere…”

 “Father, I adore You, Lay my life before You, How I love You…”

 “For I know, whate’er befall me, Jesus doeth all things well…”

 “Through this world of toil and snares, If I falter, Lord, who cares? Who with me my burden shares? None but Thee, dear Lord, none but Thee…”

 “And He walks with me, and He talks with me, And He tells me I am His own…”

 “But the Master of the sea, Heard my despairing cry, From the waters lifted me, Now safe am I…”

 “My tongue shall praise Him for ever more…”

 “’Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, And grace will lead me home…”

 “Just as I am… O Lamb of God, I come, I come!”

 “Hear my cry, hear my call, Hold my hand lest I fall…”

 “Let us then be true and faithful, Trusting, serving every day…”

 “I have heard you calling in the night…”

 “Because He lives I can face tomorrow…And life is worth the living just because He lives…”

Is the Lord singing to you too?

Lord, may we open all our senses to You as You seek our attention and adoration. Thank you for guiding us on new paths, all which lead to You.

When I was about 8 years old, we went to Haiti. My dad - who at the time was a successful illustrator for Reader's Digest, Esquire and Saturday Evening Post - wanted to take us someplace different. I'd never heard of it.

We ended up in a "resort," which was actually a hotel behind a gate. At the time, the dictator Papa Doc Duvalier ruled Haiti. Being from a very white suburb, I had seen very few black people so just driving from the airport was culture shock. I was scared of the people - many children my age - who were banging on the windows of the cab begging for money . I was sad but knew it was true when we were told not to give them anything. The dam of humanity would overcome us.

We were not allowed to venture out alone and were driven wherever we wanted to go sightseeing. During the week we developed a close relationship with the taxi driver and I think my dad later helped him come to the U.S. Except for a waiter at my dad's illustrators' club, the taxi driver was probably the only other black person I had talked to in my life.

I remember having a seamstress make dresses for my sister and I. I remember going to a gallery where my dad selected mahogany sculptures that were shipped back to the U.S. I remember the children in their underwear dancing in the rain puddles in the afternoon's tropical showers. I envied them because it looked like fun. I remember hearing the Voodoo drums in the mountain forests at night and I was scared.

My overall impression? I was disgusted I was so privileged. And I remember most of the time I felt helpless and was scared of the reality, of the poverty. Why them and not me?

Now, where are the seamstress's children's children, the artist's family, the taxi driver's loved ones? The children have no place or reason to dance now, not among the bodies in the street. Though their houses were tin shacks, they were home, homes that are now demolished. No food, no water, no homes.

And where am I now, 40+ years later? Still privileged, still sheltered and still scared, but now scared for them, overwhelmed by the world's inequity and tragedy. I'm still wondering why them, why not me? And I still feel helpless.

Lord, all I can do is pray. Please hear my small words and the thousands, millions of other prayers around the world so these people may hope for the first time and know the wonderful, saving power of you and know one day they will have Eternal Life.

Love, from one very small person in a mass of humanity...

Hello - and a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all: May God's blessings and love touch your hearts throughout 2010.

Well, this message isn't very Christmas-y but thought I'd share this experience that happened on 12/29. I had about one of the worst days ever at work. I'm sure everyone can relate whether you are at work or at home because life is often about challenges and how you handle them are half the battle.

I work for a newspaper and deadline is Tuesday evenings. I was a little behind schedule when I went to work on Tuesday morning. That's OK, but when the power went out due to high winds, that was not OK... The power company said 92% of users had no electricity in the town that I work and they did not know when it would be turned on. Four hours later and still no power, I had not started laying out (designing) the newspaper. The only reason a paper is not printed is... oh yeah, there is no excuse - even if you die at your desk, someone has to do it...

So I packed up three computers that I get my information from and took them to another office about 10 miles away, extracted the news and photos I needed, hooking up one computer after the other (you're looking at someone who can barely turn one on...) and began designing the paper at about 5 p.m. Three hours later I was done. I must admit it wasn't proofread (there are usually three of us doing that) but it made deadline. I'm just not going to look at it too closely: head-in-the-sand syndrome...

I am someone who sometimes gets paralyzed by stress and adversity. But this time I prayed. Often when I am in distress I actually am too frazzled to pray. But God's ears must have been hurting that day from all my chatter.

So why did I title this blog "S'prayer" ? That morning when I got in the shower, my husband had left in the shower a spray bottle that was labeled "Sprayer." However, all I saw was "prayer." I guess that was a hint of how much I would need it that day. That God wink has kept me smiling.

Thank you, Lord, for guiding us especially in our hours of stress and giving us the opportunities to learn how to deal with life. I thank you that my family is intact and that we aren't sick - so, all I had was a challenge at work, and in this day I am grateful for a job. You never promised life would be a piece of cake but you did say you will never forsake us. We'll save that cake for when we get to our heavenly home: carrot cake? though I'd also settle for lemon meringue pie...

In Jesus' name - rowansmom