As a “preacher’s kid,” I was introduced to a variety of churches. One that is clear in my memory is a church that is located in one of Bertie County’s rural communities. It had a small vestibule at the entrance, where the late-comers could wait for a pause in the service to enter.
Riding up to the church and watching the congregation gather was an experience that I have never forgotten. I remember the smiles and the eagerness that shone on their faces. With my mind’s eye, I can still hear the piano playing and the choir singing. The oldest Deacon would pray a prayer – getting caught up in the spirit. It was as if he was alone with God, thanking Him for life, health and giving Him the Glory for all of the things in his life that are so often taken for granted.
They had waited all week to be with other family members and friends – first to worship in Spirit and in truth, the sustaining force behind their existence as a people relying on the fruits of their labor, supplied by God alone. Secondly, the church was a social outlet. I had to be on somewhat good behavior. My nickname, Sassy, spoke volumes. I was a challenge to my parents.
If this church looks familiar, it’s because of the style, popular in that day. Some had Baptism pools located in their side yard, while others still baptized in the local river. I can really appreciate the heritage that our forefathers left us – gifts that keep on giving, special places like THE POTTER’S HOUSE.