When a man walks into a church alone for the first time in years, after 5 weeks out on the big road, or a working mother takes the time to dress her 5 kids early Sunday morning to take them to Easter Services, how will it be for them? He goes because he misses worship, but he's just a trucker, not so good at talking to folks, and she's going all by herself to a church she never has time to go to on most any Sunday, because she works as a cocktail waitress until 2AM most nights, and this is the first church the kids have ever been to with Mom, because her husband won't come, but she was raised a Christian, and feels she owes it to her kids.
Their stories:
The man hasn't been to church in years, since he was a child, really, outside of getting married. His heart was recently moved by something he heard on the radio late one night while he drove the I-40 across New Mexico. That was two and a half weeks ago, but it made him cry while he drove that truck in the middle of the night, because he heard Jesus call to him, and he made a commitment to Jesus then and there to go to church, just as soon as he could whenever he got home. On his one weekend home in 5 weeks, he asked his wife to go with him to church, but she said no. He could have easily have decided that since she wouldn't go, he wouldn't either, but he kept his promise. He kissed his wife goodbye that Sunday morning, and answered the Lord's call. He drove to the church closest to his house, because he knew his wife resented him taking time away from her to go, and he didn't want to stay gone any longer than he had to.
He sat for a bit in the church parking lot, and watched as the congregation arrived, and focused his attention on the smiling, happy children, and didn't really notice the adults, who eyed him suspiciously sitting there in his car. Watching the kids, he remembered the times as a child that he'd gone to Sunday school, and learned the gospel from a sweet mother who wanted to serve the Lord and teach there. He had fond memories of coloring pictures of Jesus giving the Sermon on the mount, of rehearsing Psalms and learning the Lord's prayer. It was a warm day, so eventually, he had to get out of the car, and it was almost time for services to begin, so he walked up to the doors to the church. Most people were already inside, and it was his intention to sit in the rear of the church anyway.
He walked in, and one of the ushers nodded to him and motioned to the last seat in the back row of pews. He sat down, bowed his head in a short prayer of thanks to God for getting him in the door, and listened. He stood and sang hymns with the rest of the congregation, and listened intently to the pastor as he spoke. He remembered the sermon from his childhood...ask and ye shall receive, knock and the door shall be opened. A favorite of his childhood days. He remembered the big picture on the wall of his old church of Jesus knocking at an old looking wooden door. They sang a few more hymns, and after a prayer, the service was over. He stood, and walked to the door, and out into the bright sunlight in the parking lot. He got in his car, and drove home.
As he drove along the road back to his house, he thought it odd that only the usher had even acknowledged him, that no one had welcomed him, nor really said a word to him. When he got back to the house, his wife asked him how church had been, he answered, "Just like I remember it honey, just like when I went when I was a kid 40 years ago." I liked feeling like I was in the Lord's house, and I remember what it was like to love Jesus, I think I cried a little bit during one of the hymns. I remember the smells and sounds of church, the too much perfume on some women, the fancy dresses and some hats they wore, the little children, oh the little children, so much like I was then. I haven't been to church in so long. It kind of made me sad and a little homesick." "Well good." his wife said, and asked, "Are you going to go on your next home time, then, maybe I'll go with you?" He smiled a little, and with a sigh, said, "No honey. I'm not going to go. I'll be right here with you next time, there's no point in going, really, there's nothing for me there but memories. I kind of thought we might start to go again, but no. It's not the same anymore, it's just not the same."
That woman and her kids went to that church that one rare, sunny, and bright Easter Sunday morning, for the early service. She felt a little ashamed for only going to a church on Easter, having never been there before, but if she was ever going to start, it might as well be have been that morning. At least she knew, the kids would get the most important message they could on this Sunday, of all others. Of course, the kids didn't hear much. It was all she could do to keep them all quiet through the service. Five boys who didn't get why they were there in the first place did not share her sense of reverence. She noticed, sadly, that no one had had a word to say to her, or to them, just looking them over, noticing the kids had rather shabby shoes, and they were wearing jeans, of all things, with white shirts and ties. The mother wore a dress that was more cocktail dress than Sunday frock. When the services were over, she felt so uncomfortable, and no one still had anything to say. The kids stayed close to her, just looking at all the people talking and laughing amongst themselves. It was just a few minutes, but soon, she gave up, and had them practically marching, making a beeline for the car.
She piled them all in to the old Oldsmobile, and headed to the WigWam TeePee market to buy some Easter candy and baskets, while she had the kids wait in the car. They all went home, changed, and together, they dyed eggs in as many designs as they could imagine. Striped, half and half sideways, half and half end to end, blotches of color from crayons, stickers, you name it. Eventually, she woke up her husband, made him coffee, and the two of them hid the two dozen eggs out in the yard. Each child got one chocolate bunny and a cheap plastic basket, and they all hunted for the eggs until they'd found all 2 dozen. They had a wonderful time together that day after church, and every one of those kids will remember that weekend for the rest of their lives, but no one ever mentioned the reason for Easter, even after being at the church together.
They all just wanted to forget the experience, because all any of them could remember was feeling embarrassed, and a little ashamed, feeling their mother's anxiety. They tried not to think of it very much after that. Later that day, Dad took them all fishing down at the pier together, and the caught the biggest fish they'd ever seen. It was almost three feet long! That's what they remembered the most about that Easter Sunday.
The youngest did ask his mom, while they were dying eggs, "Why did we go to church this Easter Mom? I didn't really like it." "She looked out the window, held back her tears, and then looked at her husband, and said, "I don't know sweetie, I don't know. But, we're having a nice time now, aren't we?" He smiled and said, "Yes, momma, yes! I like my chocolate Easter bunny!" It was another 7 years before the middle child came home one night to tell his mother and father that he'd gotten saved, and 15 years before that mom ever set foot in another church. In the meantime, she and her husband did a lot of drinking, the kids went through drinking, and drugs, and every other kind of trouble they could find, and she and her husband nearly lost their marriage, more than once. They hung on, and all in all, they were a good family, everyone turned out OK eventually, but just barely. They all were eventually saved, all eventually found their way to other churches, but only because Jesus just loved them, and didn't care that they didn't have much money, or fine clothes. It was the faith that mother had, somewhere deep within her, that finally drew first the middle child, then all of the others, back to Jesus, to other churches, in other towns, in other places and times. It was hard for them, but God wanted that family, every last one of them.
Years later, one Sunday morning, one of those boys drove by that nice fancy yellow church he remembered from his childhood, and noticed it wasn't nearly as big as he'd remembered it, that the grass had grown up through the pavement in the parking lot, the pale yellow paint had peeled away on the south side of the building, and there weren't many cars in the parking lot. He just drove on, past the shabby old pink house they'd lived in so many years ago, and wondered how life might have been different for them had they ever gone back to that yellow church after that one Easter Sunday......but they never did.