Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Mourn (08/01/24)
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TITLE: Revival | Previous Challenge Entry
By Kayla James
08/08/24 -
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I was afraid something like this would happen when only fifty people arrived three months earlier. They looked annoyed, some shooting glares my way as if it were my fault. Their displeasure even as the autumn sunlight glanced through my windows on their slightly sleepy faces. They didn’t want to be there.
Football season for some… upcoming holiday sales for others. That was to be expected. Nevertheless, I knew it was just the tipping point.
Now I sat waiting for Pastor Brandon to open up the doors for worship service this chilly but sunny morning. No one came and my heart broke.
The next day, I saw two old women pass me by.
“Such a shame,” one said, clicking her tongue at me. “Small wonder though. I mean, will you just look at the state of it. I couldn’t blame them all. Jewel Crest Worship Center is far more upscale and the pastor far more educated and modern.”
“I should hope so,” the other replied. “It’s not like it was back in our day. Remember? We were forced to be sermonized at every Sunday.”
“Every Sunday, nothing. Why, my father had us all packed off to this very church every Sunday morning, evening, Wednesdays, and if he could manage it, Saturdays if there was a revival in town. No, Jewel Crest is far more understanding. We get in, we get out, and come whenever we want.
Shame about Pastor Brandon though. He was getting up in years. I guess the mayor will have this eyesore bulldozed by spring. Don’t know who else would even want it.”
I shivered as the winter breeze shook my walls and carried their chatter further and further down the street.
Bulldozed? Me? Why? What have I done?
Pastor Brandon gone? Then who will make sure my pews are polished and the candles lit at the altar? Who will play the piano so that people would come and lift praises to God?
I was in a state of nervous anticipation as months went by. Snows came and went and the grass grew tall to hide the trash people threw into my yard. Anger, sadness, and jealousy swept threw me as I heard so many people talk of Jewel Crest with its hot stage lights, several guitars, and even a new outbuilding built specifically for the teenagers in mind.
Spring came and despite the old woman’s prediction, the mayor didn’t even think about me. It wasn’t until the next autumn began to dawn when I saw a couple drive up the road, get out of their car, and walk over to me.
The woman looked as if she had also gone through a recent sadness, but when she saw me, hope filled her large gray eyes. Her hands caressed the dusty piano and her nose sniffed the fading scents of lemon wood oil that still lingered along with musty Bibles and hymnals.
“Can’t we do anything?” she asked the man I assumed was her husband.
“Would you want to?” he asked. “It’s not as pretty as some of the other churches we’ve shepherded back to life.”
“Oh, George, we’ve been in worse and besides, this church is crying out for the gospel to be preached in it again.”
Yes, I wanted to shout. Yes I am! Please, George, say yes.
“Besides, I think Robby would have loved to have gone to Sunday school in a church like this.” George reached out and caressed her hair.
“All right, Kate,” he said.
In the coldest winter the town ever faced, my polished pews sat fifty people. Kate played hymns and some contemporary worship songs on the piano, joining her voice with the other congregants. Both children and parents sat eager to hear George preach the gospel simply but plainly.
Families came and went. Jewel Crest and other watered-down churches continued to spring up and some were eventually deserted. I remained, ever reaching out, revived, and refreshed.
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