I’m alive y’all! Between graduating, looking for a job (getting a car!!), finding a job, getting training to officially get said job, and then WORKING said job, I’ve been just a little busy.
But. I’m back.
Almost two years ago my family and I started going to a new church. I was halfway through my junior year at that point- over on the far end of the Youth Group. Due to a lot of things, some of which being my own fault, I was looking forward to graduating and being able to pick my own Sunday School class. There are a lot of different classes at our church, organized by topic, not age.
A month or so after we had started attending this church, the Youth Group took their annual three-day Spring Retreat. This meant that on Sunday, there would be no Youth Group. Since my siblings and I didn’t go, we were on our own. Philip went with my parents, but I was allowed to chose a class to attend that morning.
There were several that looked interesting, but one caught my eye. It was a class only for women- the only class with a specific audience. I decided to go there.
After wandering around the hall for several moments, I found the classroom and poked my head inside. I was a little late. As I smiled and asked if I could join them, I realized that the class should have had a different name. At our church in Missouri it would have been the “Golden Agers”.
I knew in that moment that it was the class for me.
All the ladies welcomed me in, delighted for some reason that I was there. They went around and quickly introduced everyone. I only caught one or two of the names unfortunately and on later visits ended up making a diagram of the table that I could fill in as I listened and was able to put names with faces.
That first Sunday was one of the most restful and enjoyable experience I had had at the church to that day. The lady teaching had done a lot of research on the chapter of Hebrews that they had studied that week and shared from what she’d learned as we went through the lesson’s questions.
Later that week I received a note in the mail from someone in Little Rock. We didn’t know anyone in Little Rock really at the time, so as I opened it I had no idea who could have sent it.
It was from one of the ladies in the Sunday School class. I’d like to take a second to point out that as of yet, we had only been attending the church for about a month and our names were obviously not in a church directory. I don’t know how she got my address- I was impressed that she remembered my last name!
The note simply said that she had enjoyed meeting me and hoped I would come again soon.
Between that day and my graduation the next spring, I visited the class three or four more times. Aside from the next Spring retreat, the other times were often mornings when I needed a break from Youth Group and would quietly slip out of my seat in that room to head over to the people I have affectionately called “my ladies”.
Since I have been regularly attending the class, I don’t speak as much as i did when I was visiting. That is due in most part because I just love watching them all too much. I’ve loved seeing the interactions between them all, putting together their life stories, hearing their prayer requests and the way they remember people who need prayer. I love the two ladies who attend that are in their 4o’s. I loved listening to the organist talk about Jesus this last week- her character to share about as our class retold the nativity story. She shared that she had lost several very, very dear friends over the last four months, and how in each o their passings she had seen a different aspect of Christ’s love and perfect timing.
The ladies in this class are my example. They are the people I pray I can be like one day, the people I want to approve of me, the ones I want to know even better. They are faithful prayer warriors, servants to their families, friends, and church, and a joy to be around.
They’re my ladies and I love each of them dearly. They have given so much to so many people and I know that by His grace, God is pleased with them.