Changes

I don't do well with change. I like predictability. Stability. Security. Change rarely sits well with me. Back in September I experienced a weekend that was so full of change I could hardly bear it.

The first change came on Saturday afternoon when we stopped at Grandpa's house on our way home from the Wayne County Fair. Driving into Grandpa and Grandma's driveway always had a touch of anticipation that came along with it because you could almost count on Grandma being in the kitchen and Grandpa was either sitting at the table looking out the window at you, toothpick in mouth, or else he would holler to you from his garage or the garden if he were outside. This time driving into the driveway didn't have that anticipation at all, but almost a fearful dread. After picking blueberries in Grandpa's patch without him, I wandered through his barn, his garage, and the empty, empty, empty house. I could hardly stand being in there because it was soooo very empty. It was change, and it just wasn't right. I almost half expected him to walk out of the bottom part of the barn and call me in to see his racks of onions drying, but when I walked in there, it was empty. No Grandpa. No onions. Just empty shelves and drying racks. I had a hard time driving away from that house because I knew I would never go back in there again.

Sunday morning was the second change that tore me apart emotionally. We went to East Akron that morning and saw this sign. I knew it would be there. I was expecting it, but when I saw it in person, I knew the morning would be a rough one for me. The East Akron Apostolic Christian Church at 844 East Archwood Avenue was up for sale. This is the church that I grew up in from my birth.

I played Red Light, Green Light and Mother May I on this sidewalk and these stairs. I mowed this lawn and shoveled these walks.

I was taught in this Sunday School room and I also taught in this Sunday School room. I ate many lunches and family night suppers in here. I just hung out with my friends writing on the chalkboards in this room.

I also spent a lot of time in this room as a little girl, reading "One towel is all you need" on the paper towel dispenser and wondering who's mother had that printed on there. We would be fascinated by that little dial on the water meter that would spin around like crazy when we flushed the toilets, never realizing that we were wasting water as we entertained ourselves. Shhhh. Don't tell Mom and Dad this, but we also kept ourselves entertained by wadding up sopping wet pieces of toilet paper and throwing them up so that they would stick on the ceiling. Sometimes they'd fall down on the old ladies that would innocently walk in on our fun.

This is the sanctuary where many, many memories originated in this building, from Sunday School Christmas programs to rushing to sit next to Aunt Irene during afternoons (because she would pull out her Halls cough drops, already unwrapped and placed in a kleenex for us) to the unthinkable teenage game of Truth or Dare. There is the precious memory of me giving my testimony to the church and then being baptized behind those heavy, red velvet drapes. There are memories of weddings and Big Sings and Girls Group practices and baptisms and Arthur and Ben and Paul and John and a host of other ministers. Yes, there were some sad and troubling times in here as well, but my memories right now want to linger on the good.

Good-by, East Akron. You are now sold to another group of people who want to make this their house of worship. You have been a building that brought the Light to a dark world. God has blessed your walls and the souls that came and left from this place. Each person has their own set of memories from within your doors; some good, some bad. But I know that for 57 years, children of God have been able to worship Him in a building that had been dedicated for this purpose. I will probably never walk through your doors again, but the real Church, to which East Akron belonged, can never be sold! One day I will be able to worship my God in a Place that far surpasses what East Akron has offered me, and I know that this is one change that I am looking forward to! When I enter Heaven, that change will be worth all the struggles of earthly change that I've ever experienced. Good-by, East Akron. I will never forget you.