Love filled the Church

The old cemetery stood in the yard,

dripping with the tears of rain,

its only voice the silence of the tombstones.

With it, an abandoned country church.

White siding, cement blocks

The word Methodist above its door.

Empty, except for pews 

and the old wood burning stove.

Echoes of the faith that had been found there

reverberated through the room.

Bright yellow flowers at the door

offered hope of life.

Life in the hollows of a mountain

A river flowing by.

I lift my eyes to the mountains -

where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord,

the maker of heaven and earth.

Today, with the rain outside,

Love filled the church.

The floor creaked from the strain

of unaccustomed company,

If, as they say,

the green walls could talk,

they would tell of past preachers, 

who taught of grace,

in the middle of a cemetery,

and salvation.

For everything there is a season

and a time for every matter under heaven

(Turn turn turn)

A time to be born, and a time to die.

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted.

The new preacher,

the brother,

who spoke of thin places,

of visions and dreams.

Brought his sister to life

as her spirit of living was celebrated.

In the room where their grandparents

shared their faith,

the grandson led people

to the light of God

and gave voice to God's message

in the silence of the tombstones

as light poured through the windows.

And his sister said,

Let not your heart be troubled.

Neither let it be afraid.

for I go to prepare a place for you.