My Roots

Mama's parents, Granny and Papa, came from large sharecropping families in Arkansas.  That life is harder than any life I have known.  Their relocation to Michigan is a familiar story...they came seeking their fortune in Michigan's booming automotive industry.  Fortune is a relative term.  My grandfolks were not anything close to being rich by worldly standards, but the life they created for Mama and her siblings in Michigan offered opportunities that might not have been there if they had stayed in Arkansas.  Coming to Michigan changed my family's eternal trajectory.  It was in Michigan...in a Southern Baptist mission church...that Papa came to know Jesus as his Savior and Lord.

According to my Aunt Sandy, Granny took the four oldest of "The Fab Five" and began attending this little mission church that was meeting for worship in a leaky basement.  The youngest of "The Fab Five"...my youngest uncle...was usually left at home with Papa.  At some point, Papa had his fill of being left at home with the toddler and he started attending church with his family.  People have come to church for stranger reasons.  Eventually, that little basement church moved into the building I ran through as a kid...the building that springs to mind when I think of Baring Cross Baptist Church.  

Granny and Papa left everyone and everything they had ever known when they moved. (Let the record show that when Granny and Papa and the oldest two arrived in Michigan, Papa's oldest sister was already there and four of Granny's siblings would eventually make their own moves to The Mitten State. The congregation of Baring Cross was made up of other folks from all points of "Down South" who had come to Michigan for the same reasons as Granny and Papa.  Within that body of believers, Granny and Papa found family.  There was no replacing the families who raised them, but the relationships they formed with the people at Baring Cross filled the gaps.  There was community and connection.  That church provided a foundation for my family.  Mama and her siblings came to know Jesus there...as did my sister and I.  Well, technically, I got saved at the roller rink, but the path was forged at Baring Cross. 

I used to make a joke that my family could have it's very own convention within the larger Southern Baptist Convention.  We have preachers, a former music minster, a former youth pastor, deacons, Sunday school teachers, choir members, women's ministry leaders, VBS teachers, short term missionaries, pianists, and organists.  We've even been known to clean a church bathroom or two because it needed doing.  My love for Jesus....my love for his people came from this.  I would not be who I am today without my Southern Baptist roots.  And before you get things twisted, I know the SBC has made some glaring mistakes over the course of it's history.  All of Christianity...the Church universal has done horrible things in the pursuit of Jesus.  I wish I could undo those things, but I can't.  Guess what?  Mistakes will continue to be made this side of Heaven because we are human.  Perfection, lasting perfection, cannot be achieved on earth.  Excellence should always be the goal.  Even in the moments of rectifying errors, excellence should be the goal because those moments often have a greater kingdom impact.

We make a big deal about denominations.  I have come to the realization that each denomination of mainstream Christianity is man's feeble attempt to connect with the Unexplainable God...to draw near to the one thing that is truly bigger than anything humanity can contrive.  We are ONE body made up of many parts...no one more important than the other.  It isn't a competition to see who God loves more or which worship he likes best.  What's pleasing to Him is worship done in spirit and truth.  I have experienced moments of true worship that run the spectrum.  Sitting quietly in a beautiful Presbyterian sanctuary...dancing with VBS kids during group worship...singing hymns with and to MILove in her hospital room...singing in a funeral choir...Christmas Eve candlelight service at a Lutheran church...a beautiful outdoor wedding on the most perfect of fall days...all moments of  unique and genuine worship.  When we get to Heaven, our worship will be united...there will not be designations for the various denominations.  We will be ONE...gathered around the throne, our faith fully realized, all signing "Worthy! Holy! Glory!"

Choosing to identify myself as a Southern Baptist has never been an idol.  I'm a Christian first...seeking the Lord through the practices and teaching of the SBC.  I am proud of my family's Southern Baptist roots. I am so thankful for that little mission church that had an eternal impact on my family's life.  Had the church planters not been obedient to that call, life would have looked very different for us.  My family has had it's struggles and challenges, same as any other family.  There have been moments of great sadness and despair.  But because of the choices that Granny and Papa made for their family to follow Jesus, there was always hope...even in the darkest of days. I love having friends from every corner of God's family...we can learn from each other, challenge each other, encourage each other and despite the differences of how we come to the feet of Jesus, the point is....that we all make it there.