Sunday, July 19, 2026
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
Another Sunday morning
Brothers and sisters:
The Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness;
for we do not know how to pray as we ought,
but the Spirit himself intercedes with inexpressible groanings.
And the one who searches hearts
knows what is the intention of the Spirit,
because he intercedes for the holy ones
according to God’s will.
And when I move into the first person conversation which feels natural after a night of unspoken mental chaos, it’s easy to receive the Sabbath Rest. Lord, can I tell you what I remember about sabbath in Waynesville?
Sure. I was there, and I remember too. You love that place still.
We spent a year or two of our several years in Waynesville, Illinois beginning Sabbath on Saturday night, with a meal prepared by Margaret and blessings from Dave for each of our kids, each week, spoken over them. Like Isaac, and Jacob and Esau, perhaps with fewer lifelong consequences.
Blessing. You know each other better when you see each other through blessing. And you can feel how much I’m pleased.
In the morning when the weather was right we walked to church. I imagine kind of a procession, but of course it wasn’t like that. We walked a block north from our house on South East Street, turned left and walked a couple of blocks west past the Waynesville Township Library and through our block-long downtown, past Millie’s restaurant and Earl’s grocery and the American Legion (always kind of infamous to our mostly teetotaling church but a haven for many). The American Legion continues forty years later to expand. The other stores and restaurants are long … gone.
Which makes me sad, too. Millie is in Tennessee. Earl is with me in heaven. His wife Marlene still lives in town, where she was born. Marlene always wanted to explore a little more of the world, but instead she set down roots that have borne great fruit. (Earl and Marlene invited you, and they loved you. Love you.
Our family of five turned north on Isham and walked the last two blocks – post office on the right, to our church home. Waynesville Christian Church thrived in those days, drawing students from Lincoln Christian College and surrounding towns, to the point where church attendance more than doubled Waynesville’s population. Pastor Gary Johnson left a career in banking to become a pastor, and he loved the Mayberry feel of Waynesville. He and his wife Leah merged with the community and relentlessly pursued everyone who would listen, inviting them to be friends, always with open hands and open arms.
The Johnsons always said YES, and we learned to say YES too. During the three years we spent there we helped rebuild the church from an old school house into a large, fully equipped building with a beautiful sanctuary and many classrooms, and a kitchen made for lots of potlucks.
But the building was only the start, right? When I walked the streets with you, David, your family was participating in a moveable feast.
Our friends from forty years ago in Waynesville have remained friends forever, built on the best years and best memories of our lives.
We couldn’t have done it alone. Gary invited a group of missionary-carpenters from the South, who came and managed the construction. Marc and Chris and I helped hammer and sometimes saw and with a group of others, hold up the finished walls of 2x4s. Not quite Amish, but we felt like a community, working together and playing together. And eating. Always, of course, eating.
The community drew many to its heart. Hazel and Bill Fineran, part of the construction team, movd with their family from Atlanta, Georgia. Four of us piled into a car and drove all night to Atlanta, to help the Finerans get their stuff into the moving truck. Soon they became part of the church family, and Bill made a beautiful two-colored chessboard, beautifully finished, which still sits in my office, as gorgeous today as it was then.
This is my Father’s world. You sing that song for me, to me, and my vision is not blurred or false. Bill and Hazel in Atlanta, all of you in Waynesville, such precious parts of my family.
Your word, Lord, lifts me up this morning and sets me down on a rock, watching the past merge with this present moment. Thank you.
I come to the aid of your weakness;
for you do not know how to pray as you ought.
I myself intercede for you with inexpressible groanings.
I search your hearts, and know what I intend
Because I myself pray for you and search your hearts.
I knows my intention because I intercede for you,
Always knowing my own will for you.
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(Wisdom 12, Psalm 86, Romans 8, Matthew 11, Matthew 13)
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