Maybe you saw the mention on Facebook. Yesterday, February 15, was the second anniversary of the groundbreaking service for our new worship center. Maybe you were there. Maybe you remember.
I wasn’t there. But still I remember. Like it was yesterday.
For that matter, I remember when some pioneers met for the first time in the Davises’ living room. I remember when this church gathered every Sunday at Fort Daniel Elementary School, faithful folks arriving early to put a sign outside and turn a cafeteria into a sanctuary. I remember the opening service of the first building erected on these grounds—now the OLD sanctuary, soon to be the NEW student center. Of course, I wasn’t there for any of those moments, but I remember.
It isn’t because I read the news in our conference newspaper, The Wesleyan Christian Advocate (may it rest in peace) or heard the stories through the conference grapevine. I remember all these things, not because I was there, but because those moments are all parts of the story that is now my story. Even if you arrived at Hamilton Mill UMC last week, all of those memories are your memories now, too.
Don’t worry. This isn’t some sort of sci-fi memory-implant thing (“Welcome to HMUMC; we will now embed this chip in your brain.”). It’s called adoption. It’s called a shared journey. It’s called church.
When you join HMUMC, you join the story we all share. It goes back to 1996, our story … and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Your story goes back to horseback days of circuit riders and rustic churches. It goes back to England and the Wesley brothers and a revival that swept a land and circled the globe. It goes back to Roman roads and faithful apostles. It goes back to some grieving women at an empty tomb and to a cross and darkened noon. And it goes back farther still.
You get the point. Say yes to Christ; step into the community of the faithful; and the story is yours.
So, absolutely, I remember that groundbreaking of two years ago. And while I’m not sure I can remember where I laid my car keys when I got to work this morning, I remember quite well the day my father and mother, Abraham and Sarah, said yes to God, packed up, and hit the road. You were there, too, as I recall.
So, now a new question is before us: What’s next for our story?
I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to remember.