A while back I had heard about an old church near Yucatan Landing near Lake St. Joseph. A couple of friends and I ventured that way this past Saturday and finally found it. But, alas, it had collapsed about a year before. We missed it the first time we drove by it, but a second look showed us the twin spires of the church building. One of them is covered in vines, but the other is still visible.
My friends Robert Walker and Jerry Rushing were rather sad at the demise of the old church and wondered aloud about the lives that had been changed there. We thought about all the folks who had been married there, had their funeral preached there and accepted our Lord and Savior there. But the town of Point Pleasant eventually faded away and the old church stood as long as she could before the elements overtook her. The lone spire pointing toward the sky seems defiant to the ravages of time, trying her best to welcome folks to the church house doors one more time. I tell you this, the vines may cover her over one day, but I will never forget her.
A while back I had heard about an old church near Yucatan Landing near Lake St. Joseph. A couple of friends and I ventured that way this past Saturday and finally found it. But, alas, it had collapsed about a year before. We missed it the first time we drove by it, but a second look showed us the twin spires of the church building. One of them is covered in vines, but the other is still visible.
My friends Robert Walker and Jerry Rushing were rather sad at the demise of the old church and wondered aloud about the lives that had been changed there. We thought about all the folks who had been married there, had their funeral preached there and accepted our Lord and Savior there. But the town of Point Pleasant eventually faded away and the old church stood as long as she could before the elements overtook her. The lone spire pointing toward the sky seems defiant to the ravages of time, trying her best to welcome folks to the church house doors one more time. I tell you this, the vines may cover her over one day, but I will never forget her.
Poignant pictures, Marty. Thank you for sharing this treasure with us.
ReplyDeleteOh, Marty... this really hits home. But it also makes me wonder how many saints were birthed from that pulpit and are walking the streets of gold above. With my mind on heavenly business, I came by to wish you a very Merry Christmas. You are such a blessing with your camera and use your gifts so well in glorifying God.
ReplyDeleteMerry Christmas...
Sheila :-)
I love the twin pictures, the twin spires, the valiant flourish as the point pierces the vine to face the sunlight.
ReplyDeleteAnd the intricate work of the tin, like a carefully-pieced quilt, and the ridges of the spine still shrugging off the cover.
I hope you'll mark your calendar and go back in Spring, to capture the image verdant and vital, like the times she must have seen and heard.
I love to sit in just the light of the Christmas tree, watching your little slideshow just up to the right, there. Mesmerizing at bedtime, watching the skies flame and suns rise and leaves turn to from green to gold.
ReplyDelete