In its early years the church had a vibrant youth program which was oddly mostly boys. We went on countless weekend and summer camping trips and developed wonderful memories. During construction the other boys and I helped other members raise the walls on the building that this church still occupies.
When I left home for college in 1965, I was sure that I was off to a life that would seldom take me back to my hometown and to the church that I was raised in. I never, for a moment, dreamed that I would return here. I finished college, served in Viet Nam as an enlisted man in the US Navy, attended and graduated from seminary, served in the Navy again as a Chaplain, during which time I completed my doctorate in Pastoral counseling and Psychology. Yet afterward I seemed to lose touch with my Christian roots. My life had unraveled: I lost my family, my career, and had given up on having any value to the Kingdon of God.
But God had different plans. In his infinite faithfulness He had never given up on me. He drew me back into fellowship, the recommittal of my life to Him and to Jesus, and to a renewed hope for the future, to a life lived in His light. In 2002 I moved back to Myrte Point after my father died in order to look after my mother. She was attending a Baptist Church in a nearby town, and I started attending with her. I remained there for nearly 18 years, taught adult Sunday School, occasionally preached, and met my wife, Jerilyn, there. But our time at that church had drawn to an end and the two of us were searching for a new place to serve God.
On one eventful Wednesday in 2020 I was driving by the church and noticed the Pastor, Larry Hebebrand, dragging a trash can out to the street for pickup. I had met Larry before and so stopped to say hello and as we spoke, I commented that “we need to talk about this church and if I can help in some way.” Due to the pandemic and other unrelated losses the church attendance had dwindled to the point that the remaining members were considering if the church could remain open any longer. Later that week when Larry and I met he expressed the hopelessness he had felt through his discussions with the denomination leaders, as their suggestions seemed to further imply that he should consider closing the church. So, our meeting, obviously ordained and orchestrated by God, set in motion a new beginning. Now, rather than throwing dirt over the grave of a dead church we are dusting it off in the hope of setting it in a place where it will again be a beacon to lost and suffering souls. It’s astonishing that God could use something as mundane as a trip with a trash can to result in such an obvious work of grace. (There must be some divine irony in that.) We plan to have that trash can bronzed in memory of that meeting.
Within two weeks, Jerilyn and I, along with several other couples began attending. We became members, Jerilyn became the new worship leader, and I became co-pastor with Larry. It has been a rough road, but God is prevailing. In the last year and a half, we have lost two members to death, and their presence is greatly missed. But our tiny congregation is slowly growing, and our sincere prayers are that we will draw people new to the faith and not just those looking for a new church. Our community has grown spiritually dark over the years and local churches have gone dark. The last two years have also presented their challenges with covid rules and the growing isolation they have caused. Yet God is still in charge despite what the world says, and we believe that He is still patiently drawing new members to His kingdom and also growing the faith of those who already know and love Him. If you are interested in a church where you can be a substantial part of growing the kingdom then, by all means, give us a look. As I said at the beginning of this article, this is the story of a church resurrection. We believe that God is more faithful than we can ever be, and we strive to continue in the faith He has given us.