On this Memorial Weekend, as we remember loved ones who’ve gone on before us, I’m reminded of both sets of my grandparents. They lived on neighboring farms and attended the same little country church.
My cherished memories of their church inspired the following poem. Some of you may have read it earlier this month in my Life Notes newsletter, but I thought I would share it here again in honor of Memorial Day — in honor of my grandparents. Hope you enjoy!
Country Church Comfort
Country church painted white
Each Sunday morning comes alive,
Trails of dust converge into one
As faithful neighbors begin to arrive.
No big parking lots here
Just pull onto the grass,
Like everywhere the talk is weather
And will it ever pass.
Across the way the cemetery stands
A wealth of history under the trees,
Happy times are remembered here
And with heaven’s hope, sadness flees.
Seasons come and seasons go
A country church weathers them all,
As favorite hymns fill the air
Hear country church comfort call.
“I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the LORD.” Psalm 122:1 KJV
*Flickr photo by p medved, Creative Commons License
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