Who Cares What Nansi Thinks?

Note: Before I launch into today's post, may I direct you to a web page that gives an interesting little history of the phrase that titles today's thoughts?

http://www.worldwidewords.org/qa/qa-hor2.htm


Yesterday I put a CD into my player at work. It was a John Denver duets collection. My co-workers were concerned when they saw me tearing up to the Placido Domingo pairing. It was beautiful. The result of listening to this ancient selection of music was a trip down my own memory lane. Each of the songs from my teen years brought back faces and places near to my heart.

Several weeks ago my niece sent me an 84 page PDF file that she'd found on line. It was "The History of Temple Baptist Church, Titusville, Florida". My dear husband spent hours printing out all of the pages for me to give to my mother. I've held it back and didn't even tell Mom it existed. A recent visit from my niece resulted in the cat being soundly let out of the bag.

I've truly been on the horns of a dilemma. Do I give it to Mom or not? You might wonder what the deal is.

I read the book. I don't know if it was the writing style or the fact that most of my entire life is on those 84 pages. At least from the years of five to thirty. I was carried from one page to the next until suddenly, it was over. Isn't life just like that?

The story begins in 1964 when our comfortable pastor was our music director. He and his family were the main "entertainment" in our church in Orlando. For every Correll kid, there was an Edsell kid. My oldest sister still maintains contact with their oldest daughter. I was the youngest and started first grade with their youngest. Ten minutes after first grade, my mom was driving both of us from Titusville, Florida to Springfield, Missouri where we both attended Baptist Bible College.

In 1964, Brother Correll was "called" to save this decrepit little church 38 miles away from Orlando. The book takes you from that first night with just eight people in attendance to the present day church that is the largest and most wealthy in the area. Mrs. Correll goes year by year mentioning births, deaths, marriages, graduations and other landmark events.

Today I sat at my desk at work and tearfully read about that horrible day in 1984 when an arson burned that gorgeous church to the ground. My heart broke all over again when she lovingly chronicled the life, ministry, and tragically untimely death of her beloved son Kim. Kim had been a professor at Baptist Bible College when I was a student. His wife often fed the poor starving kids from home. And like his father before him, Kim stepped away from a pretty comfy and cushy life of a professor and ventured out into the mission field. He died there of undiagnosed leukemia.

In the pages of that book I saw my own young life. There was my graduation, my departure to Bible college, my marriage, the birth of my daughter. And a loving tribute to my dad.

The past few days have been almost torturous for me. I am so filled with longing for happier and simpler days, and with regret for roads not taken--or roads taken and taken for granted. What will this do to my mother???

After much thought and prayer, I decided to take the book to Mom today. I started reading some of the old names and places to her. We both gave into tears.

I feel so bad for my mom. That church and the people there were her very life. It all came to a screeching halt when my dad died suddenly. Mom lived with me for a few years, and decided to try to go back on her own. She was back in Florida for about 4 years before she was too old to work and too broke to make it on her Social Security. She came back to PA to live with me. As the years slipped by, Mom has lost contact with all of her old friends from Temple.

I worry that reading Mrs. Correll's words will break her heart. I hope that she will be able to look back over the years fondly and not have too much regret. I hope I did the right thing by giving it to her.

If I messed up, I'll pick up the pieces.