This first picture was taken about a quarter of a mile down the road from where I lived as a child in Rockford, Alabama. This is the part of the South I LOVE! God's handiwork at its' best! I believe personally (and I am biased here) that the scenery here rivals Washington State!
The first church that I ever went to was not a big church; no, it was one of those "old country churches" that we sing about. Ah, the memories in this church! This is where dad was ordained to preach. This is where I sat by grandmother and got Certs every week! One time in Sunday School, my teacher was teaching my friend and I and her false teeth flew out of her mouth! You can imagine the hysteria that followed!! I caught fireflies in the parking lot, played on the piano (although at the time it was not beautiful!), listened to my great uncle preach (and I compare him to the great old-fashioned evangelists like George Finney! A great anointed man of God!!!) Yes, Proctor Creek Missionary Baptist Church will always hold a special place in my heart!!
I am sure you have a place that you call "home sweet home!" Well, I do too! After I was born, we lived next to my Grandmother and Grandaddy. I am sure I probably spent at least 1/3rd of my time at my Grandmother's house. She was incredible!! I loved going over there and eating her cornbread (and everything else. . . ) and watching Mr. Rogers and playing underneath the table. A lot of times I would hold special "services" where I would play music on my little toy piano and then "preach." Guess it's always been in me! It hurts now to walk into that house and realize that there is not gonna be hot cornbread on the table, no more helping Grandmother snap peas, no more walking in the garden with Grandaddy. I miss them so much. There are many great memories in this house because it was a house filled with love. In fact, you can still feel that love when you walk into it, although they've both been gone for over two years! I thank God for godly grandparents!!!
Well, fast forward a few years and we are in West Point, Mississippi. In 2001, a couple of friends and I really felt a fire for the Lord, and so we decided to form a "club" called the GateKeepers. We would meet at the pavilion in the city park and sing, read Scriptures, pray, and just really minister to each other. We called ourselves GateKeepers based on Ezekiel 33; we are each one a "gatekeeper" of his/her city. If we don't tell the lost in our city about God and they die and spend an eternity in hell, their blood is on our hands! Many people say they want to go on the mission field and tell the lost about the Savior. May I say that YOUR mission field is where you are right now? If we can't witness to our neighbor, then how are we going to witness to others? Anyway, here is the pavilion that we met under and sought God's face at:
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