Ain't nothin like the perils of an old time country church to help shine the light. We all hoped for the best of course - that Glen wouldn't witness the other kind on the way home that afternoon - the one that comes... later rather than sooner. But we just knew that God was in it. I mean, how many times had we been fooled into thinking that the very swat team He'd sent to the rescue was a mortal, enemy air strike? Well, we weren't fallin' for it this time and we hoped LuLu wouldn't either, bless her heart.   

 

It was just another real-life revelation; the fruit of long-standing fellowship that came together when the Methodist Church started looking for somebody to fill in, as daddy put it. That was back in 1985 and Pastor Billy Gram was their man. In fact, there were three separate locations then: Rehoboth, Green Valley and Shiloh, the last of which was in such ill repair that the congregation opted to meet at Ms. Clark's house instead. Within a year's time, our membership grew and we consolidated into just the two churches.

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Now, in honor of the name "Rehoboth" - it's literal meaning that is - we've made a few  luxurious renovations over the years, purely out of necessity I assure you. In fact, we're very thankful to boast of running water at Rehoboth and the fellowship hall, well it really is a very nice facility. But honestly, some folks still prefer the outhouse and in our absolute reverence for free will, we've let things alone at Green Valley. With that said, we're happy to report that we've managed all of our Homecoming feasts, Hymn Sings and Hunters Chili Suppers just fine, praise the Lord.