The truly faithful always go to church on vacation. So, naturally, I was watching for churches instead of redwoods or deer while on a Sunday morning drive up the scenic coastal route through northern California. All that was available was something dubiously resembling a church. The weather-beaten sign in front proclaimed, Redwood Christian Center, Orick, CA. Rev. Darrell E. Bean.
There were only three cars in the lot. As we pulled up, my daughter Autumn said, "Mom, I don't think this is a church. There's no steeple or cross or fancy windows." Mandy asserted, "It could still be a church." Then, looking uncertain, "Is it a church, Mom?"
"I think so," I said, reminding them that our own church was a converted warehouse, located behind a lovely bowling alley. "Let's be quiet when we go in."
We opened the front doors hesitantly. The entire adult Sunday school turned in their seats. They welcomed us heartily. Someone brought us a Bible and a songbook. Then the girls were ushered ...1