I have always thought our family was normal, but the older I get the more I sense a bit of abnormality. Usually there a negative connotation with this word, but not in our case. We are a rare breed in context with our close-knit kinship and our number of gatherings. For generations, we have assembled for Thanksgivings, Christmases, Easters, the fourth Sunday in June (Off the side of Loving Road), the second Sunday in August, and the third Sunday in August. These days are cherished moments of life.

My Childhood Churches

Growing up, I attended two churches. One was First Baptist of McCaysville/Copperhill with my sisters, mom, and dad. New Hope, also known as Flinthill, was my church on weekends when I stayed with Nana.  The second Sunday in August is the decoration at New Hope Baptist Church in Morganton, Georgia. On this day, we gather for service and eat on the grounds. But first, we adorn the cemetery with flowers to honor our loved ones, who have passed before us. This church holds dear memories for me.

I have always adored listening to the guitars and banjo that grace New Hope church. While we sang the old hymns, Gerald Heaton always amazed me! Even when he was in his 80’s, he seemed to pluck his banjo with as much vibrancy as he did when I was a kid! I thought of how I used to sit with Nana in the choir as she sang in my little ear and I tried to follow along.

Keeping Me Occupied

Looking around in the pine-paneled church, the memories flooded my mind. I can vividly remember as a little girl getting restless during the preaching. Nana would play “put your fingers in my palm, and I will try to catch it” until I would get too rowdy. Then she would pull out the maroon, vinyl, picture pouch to settle me. I love family pictures! I’d sift through the photos smiling, giggling, and pointing until Nana would have to pat my leg and shhh me. Finally, she would exchange the pouch for a baggie of cookies–always two large ones. Those were joyous days!

     The Lord’s Supper

I gave my life to Christ when I was eleven, and I was baptized at First Baptist Church of McCaysville/Copperhill in April of 1979. Granddaddy had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. I can remember being excited and felt so proud to take part in communion. At times, his hands shook badly, which had caused him and issue or two trying hold his “juice cup”. Nana and Granddaddy did not sit together in church, which was quite common for older people in country churches. When I was at New Hope, Nana would softly nudge me during communion. This is my signal to slip out of the pew we sat in, and move across the isle to sit beside him. Even as an early teenager, I was aware of how his pride must have been hurt because he could not to hold his cup. At the same time, this little job made me feel like it was an honor to hold such a special cup for such a special man.

   Amazing Grace 

Most every Sunday, at the end of the service, the congregation would slip out of their rows and walk around the church hugging and shaking hands as we sang “Amazing Grace”. I loved how the members in the church seemed like one big family that loved each other so.

VBS

In my youth years, our Sunday school and VBS classes were small at New Hope, but they were not lacking in Biblical teaching. My Aunt Anna seemed to always be our teacher, now matter our age. We always had such fun! My cousin Stacey, cousin Jimmy, my friend Carlton, and I so enjoyed singing “Just a Little Talk with Jesus”.  Once we insisted on signing “I Come to the Garden Alone“.  Stacey and Carlton had such beautiful voices. Though, at times Carlton’s voice would waiver due to puberty.  We were being so serious and probably thought the angels were smiling at our harmonies until Carlton’s voice cracked! When he got to the word “alone”, his voice shrilled about an octave higher! To this day, I have a hard time getting through the song without bursting out in laughter.

Flint Hill  Founders 

Homer Turner

How would the founders of this little church, established in 1869, have known what it would mean to a little girl named Karla? How could they know that I am thankful it was rebuilt after three different fires? Could Uncle Homer, Donna’s grandfather, have known how important his land donation was for the last rebuilding of the church.

I am grateful for years when it was common for 30-40 people to be baptized in a nearby river. Many of those are my relatives. I am so glad that a man named Leeander Turner decided to honor his wife, who is buried at New Hope, by putting flowers on her grave in the late 1800’s. Because of his actions, many churches began to set aside a day each year to honor their loved ones, which was the beginning of church decorations and homecomings in the Blue Ridge area.

The congregation of Flint Hill has influenced others for generations. Rarely, do we realize how often we affect other people. God has planned for every person to do his part, helping others to see His glory.