Join us for Worship every Sunday
@ 10:00 AM
Communion 1st Sunday of the month
Everywhere you look, the green of new life is slowly
overtaking the brown and gray. Trees are budding,
birds are singing, squirrels are getting a bit frisky. Ahh, the blessings of living in a region where experiencing God’s re-creation happens each year.
And, in our hemisphere new life bursts forth at the
same time we celebrate Jesus’ resurrection – New
As we move to and through Easter, may we stop and feel Creation around us. As the warm, southern
breezes return, may we feel them as the breath of God. As the sun reaches higher and the time of daylight is longer, may it remind us of the Light of Christ that drives out the darkness.
With this warming light and precious breath surrounding us, may we seek, hear and live Jesus’ command to us:
“I give you a new commandment: Love each other.
Just as I have loved you, so you also must love each other. This is how everyone will know that you are my disciples, when you love each other.”
John 13:34-35 CEB
And, may we heed the Apostle Paul’s reminder:
”Love is patient, love is kind, it isn’t jealous, it doesn’t brag, it isn’t arrogant, it isn’t rude, it doesn’t seek its own advantage, it isn’t irritable, it doesn’t keep a record of complaints, it isn’t happy with injustice, but it is happy with the truth. Love puts up with all things, trusts in all things, hopes for all things, endures all things. Love never fails.”
1 Corinthians 13:4-8 CEB
May your Easter and Spring be blessed with love and loving.
Spring is . . . well . . . trying to push its way to the head of the line here in “The Valley” these last days
of March. The only remnants of our snowy winter are a few small dirty piles of gravel and cinders that were once pushed up in the mountains of the white stuff. The angle of the sun is increasing, slowly warming the ground once covered with its winter blanket. Today, as I write, I see a cloudless, blue sky through the window – a sight that will become less rare as the season progresses.
Over in Squirrel Run, Miss Angela has come out of
hibernation. Her color-filled art and pottery are back
on the front porch. She’s down on her knees cleaning last year’s annuals and leaves out of her beds as the snowdrops, crocus, and daffodils push up as hard to feel the sun.
Around the corner, Rusty is finally washing all of the
winter off his faded orange pickup, though most folk
won’t be able to tell the difference. He’s even pulled
the old fishin’ boat out of storage, getting everything
ready to be the first one on the water.
At Tattler’s Diner, Ella is hosing down the sidewalk
and making the front windows shine for the first time
since November. She’s probably wondering if she
just ought to take the hose right on inside.
On the edge of town, Alpheus Klinefelter is out with
a leaf rake and a corn broom. It’s his third day at getting every last tiny piece of limestone, deposited
in the grass by snow removal, back into his two-track driveway. Of course, everyone knows that also
means the grass in the middle, too. On the back porch, Mrs. Klinefelter is beating rugs with something that resembles a large wooden tennis racket, not noticing the wind is blowing all that winter dirt toward the bleached white winter bedding on the clothesline.
From the Desk of Pastor Bert
Blessings, Pastor Bert
(Copyright©2019 THE STORYTELLING PASTOR TM)