Being Like a Nail

It is not always the big grandiose things experienced in life which have life changing power.  Perhaps, if I had ever made it to one of those gigantic Billy Graham crusade which filled a stadium, I would feel differently.  But, the truth is that my spiritual journey has been marked more with simple small things than the big stuff.  And, to let the memories control the story is to know that in many cases redundancy did more to direct my journey than I would have ever thought.   

I am a spiritual product of a thousand Sunday evening worship services while growing up.  Of course, I went on Sunday mornings and while I often thought once a Sunday was enough, my parents differed and always outvoted me.  Understand I was not always a willing participant, but I went, endured it, and let the spiritual stuff subconsciously soak into my soul.  When I became a pastor, that old habit of Sunday night worship went with me.   

Another similar influence took place during my first two years of college at Young Harris College in north Georgia.  Every evening after supper the chapel bell at Susan B. Harris Chapel sounded across the campus inviting whoever to come to evening vespers.  It was not a moment which drew the whole student body, but there was always a small crowd that gathered there each evening to sing songs like "Day is Dying in the West" and to hear some one offer a brief devotional word.  While I have other memories of those days, those memories of gathering in Susan B. are most special.  It seems that I was one of those who needed a lot of showing up to have what I needed in my spiritual life hammered in my spirit.  I am grateful for those who encouraged me to be like a nail.