I’m pretty sure no one alive today was part of the amazing effort that must have gone in to building our little sanctuary on the hill. For sixty years it has held tender conversations and political outrage, the laughter of children and the tears of parents, schemes and dreams, love and wonder and heartbreak and loss. If our fellowship hall and fireside room could talk, if the rafters and roof could call down to us, what wisdom would they share about the future of a holy place, and our holy people?
Topics: Standard Sunday Service