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Broken Record

My brother’s like a broken record.  He tells me about how we used to bike around the neighborhood pretending we were race car drivers, and how we’d gained multiple knee scrapes from turning the curb too fast. He’ll tell me this story twice, thrice, or even four times in a row, and laugh about the good ol’ days. I laugh with him, because though he doesn’t remember that he’s already told me this story for the fourth time in a row, he does remember the fun we had. My brother’s like a broken record, but I don’t mind one bit.

Church Without the Church

The church had crumbled down from the hurricane last night,

No one was hurt, thankfully, though the loud crash did cause a fright,

Its wooden beams were now splinters, and its frame was battered

Its stained-glass window of Jesus on the cross lay on the ground, shattered.

The church would be rebuilt, of course, there was no reason why not.

“After all, we can’t have church without a church,” the pastor thought.

 

The construction days were mostly rainy, so progress was slow,

The construction was then postponed some more because of unexpected snow.

The weeks turned into a month, and still, there was no preaching,

There were no hymns of praise to God or Sunday school teaching.

“This is no good,” the congregation thought.

“We can’t have church without a church. This is a tough spot.”

 

The pastor sat somberly in his house by his windowsill,

He saw that the church that was supposed to be fixed was a wooden skeleton still.

“This is no good,” the pastor said. “This is not good at all.

We can’t have church without a church. At this rate, it won’t be done till next fall!”

His wife thought for a moment, and overcame her shyness and fear,

“Maybe we should invite the whole congregation here.”

 

The pastor considered this idea, though he wasn’t sure about its merit.

Church was supposed to happen at church, wasn’t it?

But it had been too long since they’ve gotten together in worship and prayer,

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing, at least not until the church’s repair.

The congregation gathered together at the pastor’s house that Sunday,

It was a fire in the cold of winter; it was a wonderful, excellent day.

 

They sang hymns of worship, the pastor preached the word,

They all prayed together; the voice of God was heard.

They invited the Holy Spirit to come take residence,

Then everyone could feel the house fill with God’s presence.

They couldn’t have church without the church, but the church wasn’t a building with a roof,

It was the gathering of believers who worshipped the Father in spirit and in truth.

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