The couple came in after the worship service started. They seemed ill at ease, like they were not sure what to do next. The congregation was in the middle of a chorus that was printed inside the worship bulletin they had been given. I stepped back to where they stood and showed the man where we were in the chorus. After church, I discovered they were relatives of a grateful deacon who had invited them.
I remember what it was like as a college student dropping in on a new church—not knowing a soul and wondering whether I would fit in with this congregation. I am the product of a great church that opened its arms and loved me to Jesus.
When we pastored in the Carolinas, my wife and I loved to drive through the Smokies above Asheville on our day off. Once, we spotted a quaint little church on a hillside and decided to check it out. We drove up and down the highway several times, but could never find a turn-off to the church. Eventually, we gave up and drove on.
A couple of miles up the ...1