The haze as I walked through the doors made everything slightly blurry, as if I were peering through a foggy window.

I immediately smelled the wooden pews and the slight musty smell that comes from an old building such as this. The white concrete wall that barely hid the sanctuary from me still stood and I could see the vines and greenery trailing down it, covering the open squares that allowed you a sneak peek of what lay ahead.

Walking around it, I slowly made my way down the aisle. My hand sliding along the tops of the pews as I remembered each one that sat there. I could see their faces, sitting, smiling, loving.

Up ahead, just a little to my left, the piano sat. Through the haze, I saw my aunt sitting on the stool, her soprano voice carrying as she sang some of my favorite songs.

Oh, and up ahead! The choir, where I could still see my papa leading us with his strong voice in Amazing Grace How Sweet The Sound! My heart stopped for just a moment. Oh how I missed that voice!

Just as the scene before me disappeared, I turned to see my Nanny, sitting on the pew shouting, “Amen!” Truth be told, she was probably the only one back then that would shout when the spirit led her to! Oh, the faith and love that woman had!

I closed my eyes to blink back the tears as she fades from my sight. Only to open them to my cousins and I running (yes, I know, shouldn’t be running) down the aisles, playing, laughing as VBS was getting started. We couldn’t wait to get to those classrooms to learn, to craft, to make the memories I hold so dear to my heart now.

Man, those classrooms hold as many memories as the sanctuary. Sunday Schools, Training Unions, Wednesday night GA’s with the best God fearing teachers you could ask for.

My entire childhood seemed wrapped up in this old building. Easters, Christmases, New Years’ Eve Services and so many after church dinners. Everything I am, I owe to those who were there. To those who taught me, who raised me.

I find myself back in the sanctuary. This time it’s a much sharper vision. One that I remember well. I can pinpoint the exact pew, the exact spot I sat as I looked on and said goodbye to her. The church was standing room only as she was loved by so many. One of the most horrible moments of my life, yet comforted in a place that was such an important part of our lives.

I turned back towards the door as my heart could not take this memory much longer. Walking out, I caught a glimpse of my cousin climbing that same concrete wall. I laugh out loud because he’s the only one that could ever get away with it.

I turn once again and it becomes even more hazy as I hear a melody playing from somewhere far away. I open my eyes and lay in my bed listening to my alarm.

As I get up and make my way to the coffee pot, the memories of the dream play out in my head. I smile because I know, God just gave me a little taste of my childhood once again, and for that I am forever grateful.

For you see there are a lot of things that made me the person I am today, but I would never be some of those things without “The Church that Built Me”.

Until next time…