Fifty Years of Loving and Living

Almost 50 years ago I was born into a close and loving family, and last weekend I had the opportunity to return to that family for the celebration of its birth: the 50th anniversary of Urbandale Christian Church, the church of my youth. The place of our baptisms and marriages and funerals was the constant in our ever-changing neighborhood, and I welcomed the chance to see again those who shaped me into who I have become.

It was much like a high school reunion: exclaiming how much or how little we'd changed over the years; marveling over how the familiarity in our faces was that of our parents; filling in the events of our lives since we'd last gathered. These were people who didn't care how much weight we had gained, how gray or sparse our hair had become, or how slow our steps. They opened their arms with the love and caring of the community of believers that I so fondly remembered.

I was touched by the fragility I saw in these once-strong surrogate parents, those who knew me when I was but a gleam in my father's eyes; those who saw me begin to walk, to talk, to discover and grow in my faith, to rebel as a teenager, to learn, and to move into adulthood. In them I saw the aging of my parents, the aging of this fine building, and the damage of time to both.

I was pleasantly surprised to see that Jimmy Harrison, truly a "holy terror" as a child, was using the talents God gave him as a minister of music; to see "little Irene" Case, now model tall, who is a missionary awaiting a new assignment; to see the spitfire Marsha Kay Hicks serving the church as a staff member; to see those inspired, encouraged and financed by the members of the church to preach the Word across this nation.

We shed tears as we remembered those not with us: Brother Monte, who baptized me; Susan Read, my buddy who was taken from us too soon; Jim Haislip, who raised his voice in song and made words into magic images in his poetry.

I remembered events both large and small: daddy serving communion; my long walk to the front of the church to confess my faith; the three Read sons participating in the laying on of hands when the fourth was ordained into the ministry; the building of the new sanctuary; the wedding of Jan and Eddie Boyd, who met in Kindergarten Sunday School; the box suppers and parking lot sales.

I felt a blush of pride to have been a "charter baby" of this church, which continues to meet the needs of the changing community in which it sits by housing a Head Start center and serving actively in the community distribution system for food and clothing.
I looked with wonder at these people who have been close for 50 years, united first by coincidence of neighborhood and faith, but continued as true friends; who, although many have left the area, still make time to get together for parties, anniversaries, and even occasional trips to Las Vegas. Fifty years of ups and downs, births, marriages and deaths; fifty years of warmth and caring and love by ordinary people living ordinary lives.

The climax of the evening came when my parents used their talents to sing of their faith and then surprised us with "God Gave Me You." Looking at each other, they expressed the devotion of 52 years of marriage and then, singing the chorus once more, they turned to look into the faces of the family of believers of which we were privileged to be a part. I was reminded once again how truly blessed I am.

May, 1996