I am your normal wife, mother, and employee of a NC Baptist institution trying to find and answer the call on her life.  I believe that all of us are called to ministry, regardless of our employ.  I also believe that the average person doesn’t believe they are called by God.  Ministers, teachers, deacons and the like are called, but so are we – ALL of us. I would love to see all of us get about doing whatever it is we were called to do as IF we were called to do it by GOD – because we were. 

I love this time of year.  Being from the mountains, seeing the leaves change and fall just does something to my soul.  When I can’t make it back home during this time of year, my soul yearns for refreshment that only those mountains can provide.

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to visit Laurel Hill Baptist Church in Candor, NC.  The drive in was absolutely gorgeous.  The sun was bright, the trees are full of color, the sky is a clear (non-humid) blue and traffic was light. I could just feel the stress melt off of my bones.

As I got close to the church, I found myself following this curvy road back into the country. Old houses with woodpiles on the front porch, a store with a stone front and a man on a bicycle with a basket greeted me as I drove. I felt like I’d travelled back in time.  The best, though, was yet to come.

Arriving early was my goal. After all, when you’re expected to speak at 11:00, most people would prefer you arrive around 10:45 instead of after 11:00.  I made the mistake of cutting it too close once. I’d rather be an hour early than to repeat that experience.

I pulled onto the church property and began to look for a parking spot when my heart jumped out my chest.  I haven’t seen very many of these since I came down the mountain and now I am convinced that my trip was truly a gift from God. Standing before me was an old church. I would later learn it was built is 1849.

During the church service, I expressed how blessed I was at the invitation extended to me to talk about my experiences. The beautiful drive in, the beautiful day, the antique church behind their more updated place of worship was all I needed to declare this a part of God’s country.

As I was leaving the service, an older gentleman approached me and asked if I’d like to see the old church. I promise you I almost cried. Being invited to see such a beautiful part of history was almost too much to believe.  We talked as he showed me around. There are photos of some of their pastors and artifacts from the years on display in the rear of the simple structure. It was literally four walls (one room), with a hard-wood floor, old fashioned “you can’t sleep on these during the service” pews, and a pot belly stove in the middle of the room.  There were a few “modern” conveniences like electric lights but they still had one of the old lanterns they used to use for light hanging in the back.  I felt like a child on Christmas morning – I was so excited!  He explained that the newer church building was built in the 70’s and they decided to preserve the old church. He allowed me to take a few photos with my phone (who carries a camera with them on a speaking engagement?) and you could see the pride in his eyes as I exclaimed over everything.

Upon leaving, he showed me where the state used to have a marker claiming that the very center of our state was right there on their property.  He explained that the state moved it to a nearby community “some time back”.  It was at that moment that I decided. No matter what the state said, this place had a permanent place smack dab in the middle of my heart.

Here are a few of the photos I took: 

This is the entire church - pot bellied stove and all!

To read more of J. Shore's posts, click here: The Greatest Gift.