Let me tell you about a little place up the road that holds a special place in my heart – my home church, Concord Baptist Church in Creedmoor, North Carolina.
I do not use the term "home" loosely. That place literally raised me. When I was just a few days old, my Grandmother wrapped me up in a blanket and said for the first time "You can cry all you want but you are going to Sunday School" and off we went. That was the beginning of a journey that has led me to where I am today. I can't really imagine where I would be if she had not loved me enough to take me to church. She made sure that I was there every Sunday.
My brother Mike and I are just a few months apart and week after week, she would load up that car and head off on the adventure of taking the Tyner boys to church. It took 3 people just to get us into the front doors. My aunt Targia and uncle Terry were assigned the task of carrying the two of us as she drug two well equipped diaper bags filled with enough stuff for us to be away for a month. My mom packed toys, bottles, bibs, and literally dozens of diapers. My mom went a little overboard sometimes and I guess I can say I got it honest! We would crawl over and under the pews and look for any opportunity to get more than an arms length away from our grandmother, before misjudging her reach and being snatch back to our seats. She would tell us "you better be quiet and mind!" Although it was difficult, she never gave up and I am so thankful she didn't. That little church holds some of the best memories I can remember.
Fast forward a few years … When I was in the seventh grade my friend had a sleep over and brought her friend with her to church. She was tall, thin, and had fire red hair. I wanted so bad to go up and talk to her but I couldn't think of anything to say. After several minutes of searching for the right words I saw an opportunity. She was wearing a green pull-over with Old Navy stitched on the front. A friend of mine had just introduced me to Old Navy weeks earlier and I thought I was cool because we had the same pull-over. I walked up trying to make small talk pointing out that we had something in common. She basically ignored me but eventually came around. That girl was Rachel Ritsema. Twenty-two years later, Rachel, her sister Natasha, and I are very good friends. It was actually the two of them who introduced me to the World Race. See, even back then God was placing me on this path and has been molding me ever since.
This past Sunday I had the opportunity to share my World Race story with the congregation at Concord. The room was filled with people that have watched me grow through the years. Becky Stephens, who used to keep me in the nursery, Jo Davis, one of my first Sunday School teachers (in the toddler class), along with many other familiar faces; and quite a few new faces including Pastor Jim and his lovely wife Joyce. There are so many men and women over the years at Concord that taught me what it means to be a man. It was great to see them and share what God is doing in my life. At the end of the service the entire church gathered around me and prayed for my mission and that God would continue to work in my life. Pastor Jim had us close the service with a song. Picture this … A group of adults gathered in a cluster in the center of the church singing …
"Jesus loves me this I know …"
The memories came flooding back. I have not sung that song in many years. A beautiful ending to a perfect night. I am so thankful for the people of Concord. New, old, and everyone in between.
Me and my brother Mike
Rachel, Me, and Natasha Love them!!!
