Like I've mentioned a couple of times lately, I'm working on a memory book for my church's 100-year anniversary this year. At 7:30 this morning, I finally finished my part of it. Wheeeeeeee! I burned each page as a .png file to a CD, to be taken to the printer by Mom and our church secretary at 9AM this morning. I was so asleep when Mom left, I didn't make any sense at all when she was trying to ask me where the CD with the files on it was. She asked me for it, and I said, "Yeah, I burned both of them." She didn't know what I was talking about, and neither do I. Then she brought one to me that was by the computer and asked if it was the right one, and I told her to let me see it. Then I held it up to my eyeball and concluded it was the right one. I have no idea how my unconscious self could tell one unlabeled CD from another, but whatever. At least it's out of my hair and into the printers' now!

I did make another exciting discovery in my church history - in addition to Ian McKellan's twin, we also had J.C. Chavez the Elder:

Squeeee! It's too bad I wasn't alive in 1920, or he may have been able to give me backstage passes to an NSYNC concert. Dang.

And finally, part of the book was made up of writings from current and former members, just memories and such. I thought I'd share my addition - just because. Somebody may be interested in reading it.

While I didn't accept Christ until November 14, 1993, my search for God actually began in the spring of that year, when I and my 8th grade classmates lost a dear friend, Eddie, to a congenital heart defect. After he died, several of my friends began to seek God and one by one, they found Him and were saved and baptized. For me, the death of someone my age not only made me face my own mortality, but it also brought the realization that the comfort that my friends and I needed at a time of such sorrow was not to be found in this world. I knew that Eddie was a Christian, and I watched him face his terminal illness peacefully and even joyfully, knowing that he either way, he would emerge victorious on the other side. At the time, I didn't know such a peace. I wanted what my friend had.

In November of 1993, I went to [another church in our Association] on Sunday morning because two friends were to be baptized after Sunday School and several of my friends and I wanted to be there with them. I remember during the Sunday School lesson that morning, we were talking about Christ's crucifixion and suffering, and one thing really struck me - He suffered and died out of love, even for the very people who mocked Him, rejected Him, and at whose hands He died. Being a high school student and facing cliques and drama and snide remarks daily, I couldn't imagine such a love, such a sacrifice. And that love and sacrifice was within my reach, I only had to accept it.

After the pastor preached his sermon and gave the invitation for anyone who wanted to come to the altar and meet Christ there, I couldn't move fast enough. I have always been shy, though, and that aisle looked so long from my place on the back row, so I took my Christian friend Kellena with me. When I knelt at the altar and the pastor prayed with me, I couldn't stop crying. Through Christ's love and sacrifice, I had a home in Heaven, a promise that He would never leave me, and my eternal soul was no longer in danger of being lost. Not ever. I just wish that I hadn't waited as long as I did.

I started attending [my church] right after that, spending Saturday nights at Kellena's house and going to church with she and her mother and brother on Sunday mornings. I hope Kellena and her mom know how thankful I am that they brought me to such a wonderful little church, where I have always felt at home, and where the Holy Spirit can always be felt during our services - in the midst of a Heaven-sent sermon, a beautiful song, a thought-provoking Sunday morning Bible discussion, or a tearful testimony.

Some of my fondest memories are in the senior high Sunday School class, which at one point grew to be so large that we had to switch classrooms. I rarely see the other members of my class anymore, and I pray that they have found their place in another church, because life apart from Christ is no life at all. But my favorite memory from [my church] was the night that four years of fervent prayers were answered, and my parents were saved. I pray that the rest of my extended family follows before it's too late - my heart breaks for them and I can’t bear the idea that they should be lost, never knowing the sweet peace of redemption that is a permanent fixture in my heart, unmovable despite life's storms.