A New Chapter

The first event that I ever attended at Malone Baptist Church, my home church of the last 20+ years, was a Christmas event. I suppose it's only fitting that my last event as a member of Malone was a Christmas event.

This week a rather long chapter of my life came to a close with a mixture of sadness, excitement and nervous anticipation. I have left my father's church behind (with the best of feelings) and have taken a ministry position at a church closer to where my family and I live. This has actually been coming for quite some time. I have felt the pull, heard the whisper of "get ready, change is coming" and although I am a bit nervous about this move away from everything familiar, I am confident I have done the right thing.

Malone will always be home. I came there as a sullen fourteen-year-old, unhappy to be uprooted from a former church, home and school. I was determined not to like it and to remain miserable. The good people of the church however, made that difficult. Their warmth and kindness was overwhelming and I could not help but love them back.

Christmas 1992. I wore ugly Christmas sweaters before they were cool.

The people of Malone prayed me through my teenage years, saw me off to college, supported me through single motherhood and rejoiced with me when God sent me the man of my dreams. I was married at Malone, my husband and children were baptized there. I found my purpose and calling through the prayers of the wonderful folks between the pews.

There are many people that I recall with great fondness. People that made such an impression on me that I have never forgotten. People like my first Sunday School teacher, Mrs. Lucy. One of my first memories of Malone Baptist was of that first Christmas party. Mrs. Lucy's dear husband, J.N. was sitting in a chair with clothespins all over his shirt and even in his beard from some game we played. Mrs. Sue was another wonderful teacher and a Christmas party at her house included an hour-long game of hide-n-seek and a fashion show involving the wearing of an angel tree-topper as a hat. 

There were many others who talked, cried and prayed me through the angsty high school years and into the stress-filled college years. It was church members who encouraged me to study music, even suggesting schools and programs with available scholarships. My first piece of mail to my first home-away-from-home was from one of Malone's dear Prayer Warriors, Mrs. Jan. I still have that little encouraging postcard in my treasure box.

I wish I could list all of the church people who have blessed my life, but it's such an extensive list I would never finish. I will just say that having been a part of Malone Baptist Church and its amazing members has been enriching, uplifting and life-changing. I would not be who I am today without those influences. They have given advice, counsel and prayers and so much more to me and my family. I know I will be dropping by as often as my new position allows, but even if that's only once in a while, my dear "home church" will never be forgotten. 

Thank you, good people of Malone Baptist Church, for welcoming a brooding teenage girl with open arms and helping guide her into spiritual and physical maturity. I hope I've made you proud.

Cousins

There is a saying that cousins are the first friends you ever have. I am inclined to agree. Cousins, unlike siblings, are the relative-playmates who you don't see everyday. They're a bit more novel. For a lot of people, cousins are seen only at weddings, funerals and the occasional family reunion. They pop in and out of our lives, but we're usually very happy to see them.

I spent much of my childhood six hundred miles away from my cousins, so the times we got to spend together were uniquely special. My list of cousins is quite large. My mom is one of seven children and my father is one of four. I have cousins galore. I love them all dearly, but I've always had a special bond with the two closest to my age on my mom's side of the family, Tiffany and Stephanie. They are the daughters of my mom's younger sister, but they are both slightly older than me. From a very young age the three of us were big time buddies and partners in crime.

Even as babies, Stephanie and I knew how to rock

We had a laundry list of games and activities to take part in when we finally got together. As I've mentioned, I lived several states away from my cousins and only got to visit during the summer. However, as soon as my family pulled into my grandparents' driveway for our annual visit, my aunt was right behind us in her station wagon, ready to spirit me away for some quality time with "the girls." This usually involved Barbie dolls, water, and plenty of mischief.

Stephanie was almost always the one who came up with the really fun ideas that would inevitably get us into trouble. We played in the mud, painted the playhouse with peanut butter and brought plenty of wildlife into my aunt's kitchen.

When we weren't catching snapping turtles at my aunt's house, Tiffany, Stephanie and I were at my maternal grandparents' house jumping on the trampoline, exploring the off-limits bomb-shelter or running around the neighboring fields and woods playing The Wizard of Oz. We made ourselves sick on crab apples. We tortured the younger cousins with stories of how the train behind my grandparents' house would jump off the tracks and come down into the field to "get them." We created elaborate imaginary worlds on my grandmother's front stoop. We occasionally fought, but our quarrels were always short lived.

This was a land of untold wonders

Unfortunately, as the years passed, and despite my family moving closer, the three of us drifted apart. We got married, had babies and jobs and hectic lives. We're friends on social media, but we don't get many chances to see one another. This past weekend however, we reconnected at my aunt's house for the first time in years. The conditions were less than ideal, the result of tragedy, but there was still a feeling of joyful reunion. So much was still the same about my aunt's house: the doormat on the porch, the pictures on the wall, the feeling of warmth and welcome. I could have been ten years old, plopping down on the waterbed and rummaging through my aunt's movie library in search of The Wizard of Oz. 

Nostalgia is bittersweet. I have so many cherished memories of time spent with my beloved cousins, but those memories are usually accompanied by a little sadness over the loss of those days of innocence and wild abandon. Still, as I watched my children run around the yard with my cousins' children, I couldn't help but be happy at the completion of the circle. Cousins are not just your first friends. They are your forever friends. No amount of time or distance can change the fact that you are joined, not only by the bonds of blood and genes, but by camaraderie and love.

*Tiff and Steph, "There's no place like home."