As I write today, I am sitting in my car under a huge shade tree in the gravel parking lot of a century-plus-old country church down a county road. I showed up unannounced to worship with them this morning and found no one here.
I spent a few minutes walking around the little church building and the cemetery beside it where loved ones have been laid to rest for what seems to be close to two hundred years. I suspect that many of the funeral services have taken place in this little church house. I suspect that many of the folks buried here were faithful members of this congregation at some time in generations past.