Today I went by the old building to work on saying good-bye. Today was cool and the building smelled like I remember. I walked through the downstairs and looked at each of the classrooms, the kitchen, the old office. I walked upstairs and looked closely at each of the six ‘Allelulias’. I stood on the stage and noticed how small the room feels. I paused in my very bare office.
And I remembered.
I remembered singing at the top of my lungs and preaching three times on a Sunday and writing hundreds of sermons and laughing and baptizing big guy Brent and little people like Kate.
And I ran my hand along that front kneeler wall and remembered setting props on it for Easter and leaning over it to say hi and sitting on it after the service to pray for people and standing just behind it while I preached with people sitting in folding chairs that were close enough to reach out and touch.
So I decided to keep part of the wall. I ripped the top plank off– it was in 4 sections. I ripped out the front tongue and groove. And I put it in the shed. Not sure what I’ll do with it, but there are too many memories to say a permanent good-bye right now.
If you drive by our property, you’ll notice a backhoe digger and 2 porta-johns. The contractor will start prepping the site for demo on Monday. If everything goes according to plan, the building will come down some time after August 5th. We’ll tell you the day before and we’ll probably gather in the parking lot the evening before to say one last goodbye, one more thank you God, and tell each other a few more memories.
I am so thankful for the four and a half years we had in that building. A miracle happened there: Restoration.