Sunday at Brown Hill

 

         I can’t guarantee you that God has ever told me anything with his voice.  But I think he has, in a voice that only I could hear.  That is kinda why I want to hold a church service at the Brown Hill Country Church, five miles east of Houston, next Sunday, the eleventh of December.  I don’t know that God told me to; it just may be another one of my screwball ideas I have that never goes anywhere.  But I walked through those church doors when I was only five or six with my Grandpa Bert McNew and Grandma Hilda, clutching her hand and scared to death. 

 

         It seems a shame that its doors are closed now on Sunday Mornings.  Maybe if some folks will help we can open them again, at least every other week.  That’s what I am aiming for, hoping for and maybe praying for a little bit.

         There will be no preaching on the 11^th.  I have spoke at dozens of churches, helping some raise money for good local causes.  At a Mt. Grove church years ago we raised 981 dollars, which went to buying winter clothes for poor kids in the community.  A year or so later at a church in Columbus Kansas we raised hundreds more to buy shoes for Indian children at t he Rosebud reservation in Nebraska.

        At Brown Hill next Sunday we won’t pass a collection plate and I urge you to come as you are.  I won’t wear a tie if you won’t.  I think my tie is ruint anyway.  I used it as a tourniquet on my Labrador a couple of summers ago when he got snakebit.

         When I was a boy it seems like most of the men who came to Brown Hill church wore overalls.  Even Preacher Baker never wore a tie.  Remember Jess Baker anybody?  Boy what a voice he had.  Scared many a sinner into repenting right there in that church. Some of them are buried now in the cemetery behind it I imagine.

         No, I am not a preacher, because the Lord never called me to be one.  I am just a speaker, an Ozark storyteller and a writer… not really all that good at anything but paddling a boat.  And let me brag a little, at paddling a boat I am great! When it comes to story telling, anyone who has lived as long as I have in the Ozarks has some great stories to tell.  Boy, do I have some stories to tell about the old-time Brown Hill church and the people who lived in that area.  I’d also welcome some organ players or singers who can perform some gospel music that Sunday.  There use to be lots of those in the Ozarks.

         If you folks sitting in those pews aren’t smiling and laughing and feeling good when you leave, then I will have failed in what I want to do, and I don’t figure on failing.

         The church really isn’t a lot different than what it was when I was a growing youngster going there and sleeping on the back pews and attending Mrs. Alva Elliott’s Sunday school class.  But the old wood stove is gone. Pastor Gayer says he will have it all warmed up for us via electric heat when we arrive.

         So come and join me if you can.  The Bible says that where a half dozen or so are gathered, Jesus will be there also.  If we can get 20 regular folks there, then I will come back every other Sunday to bring various speakers and ministers to make that country church vibrate again with the music and the ways of the good old days at Brown Hill Church.

The Email me at lightninridge47@gmail.com or call me at 417 777 5227