By Traci Kenner
When Stuart asked me to talk about what FPC means to me, the first two words that crossed my mind were home and family. As I was growing up, church was an important part of my family’s life. Not just worship on Sunday—my parents taught Sunday School, and they made sure that my sister and I attended all the weekly activities. Mom and Dad wanted us to grow spiritually, but they also wanted us to know a church home, a church family. It worked. When I felt led to change denominations as an adult, I left a huge part of my heart with the congregation that raised me. I knew I would find a church, but I wasn’t certain that I would find another church family. Then I visited First Presbyterian. It only took one visit. I was home. And this home even came with its own Grandfather (Dick Hudson), who made sure I got into the chapel each week.
In the sermon last week, Stuart pointed out that we are a congregation that cares for each other. I’ve seen countless examples of that over the last 24 years, but God provided a great one last week. As you know, the elevator in this building can be a bit cranky, and it decided to take some time off last Sunday between church school and the 11:00 service—while I was still upstairs. After making sure that no one was trapped in the elevator, Stuart, Jim Lestor, and Kerry Symes hauled me down that steep flight of stairs—not an easy task. Kerry even gallantly pointed out that I weigh less than a piano, which I’ve decided to consider a compliment! My point is that they took care of me when I needed it. That’s what families do. And I’m proud to be a member of this one.
Throughout the Stewardship season, individuals are sharing their stories of gratitude. Check back often, and join the conversation in the comment section if you’d like!