I grew up in this church. It was here that I learned many invaluable things: songs about reading the Bible and praying everyday; verses about God so loving the world that He gave His only begotten Son; and stories about angels protecting Daniel inside a lion's den.
Ours is a small church with an even smaller congregation. But we don't look at it that way: not then, when just a few pews were vacant; not now, when churchgoers sometimes number less than the characters in the Last Supper.
Quaint with excellent acoustics, our church is so old it sways as we sing "Onward Christian Soldiers." And because it hasn't shed its original skin, it stands brittle and scarred from the ravages of time and the tyrannies of termites and weevils.
All this made us decide to renovate!
Despite the quantity and the financial capability of our parishioners, we plodded on with nothing in our hearts but faith, the kind that moves mountains.
And move mountains we did!
Now, the facade's done. And please don't ask me how because all I can tell you is that God indeed works in ways so mysterious it leaves us amazed beyond belief.
But half done we're not. That's why no matter how small, we are counting our blessings and praying for more because we have no enough resources. What we have in our hearts are faith----the kind that moves mountains----and this simple wish that our church won't sway as we sing "Great is Thy Faithfulness."
one of the two sides that still need to be demolished and replaced.
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