'Steal Away' to Jesus

I grew up Baptist, and after the aforementioned eremitical experience, I wanted solitude.

Our church was a rather large structure, built of native limestone in the 1800s, with a square sanctuary, and extensive education building. Some of my more spiritual moments in the tween years came when I found the church unlocked and totally vacant.

Dangerous, I know, but this was back in "Mayberry days." (They really haven't left, we just have to resurrect them, but that's for another time/post).

The way the education building was built made it like a tower--albeit two-storey. When all of the doors were open in the Sunday School classrooms, one could just about see 180 degrees around them.

Perhaps I should make a note about Protestant Sunday Schools. In this case, there were three or four different age groups to two large rooms, with smaller rooms for the age groups off the side. When all of these rooms' doors were open, one almost had a panoramic view.

Once I came of age, I started attending the 8:30am service, which had the youth choir (yes, I was in it). I would oftentimes get there early, just after the custodian had opened the building for services. This helped me get centered on the task at hand--the worship of the Almighty.

It also gave me a fighting chance of getting a choir robe that fit. Petite robes were the exception and not the rule. Our youth choir robes were almost metalflake blue with pointed gold collars. The adult choirs' robes, OTOH, were gold with pointed burgundy collars. My dad was in the adult choir.

What's the point of this post? Actually an exercise in retrospect--making note of the times God called me to the desert and I did respond. In future posts, I will reflect more.

Blessings,
Gemma