Good Shepherd Church

Israel pays me to clerk at the farmer’s market; not to write blogs, but it’s cool in this church and quiet and peaceful. I came here to the fellowship hall to eat my lunch. It’s empty now, but I remember Gwynne serving cookies in this room after a candlelight Christmas carol service. Gwynne, a rather famous Black novelist, humbly became a part of the Mennonite writing group that I belonged to. She passed away in 2015. I attended her memorial here in this church. Gwynne’s publisher told the crowd that day about how the lady from the farmer’s market would visit Gwynne in the room where she lay dying. (She didn’t know how I’d experienced the light of Heaven in that Island bedroom.)

Earlier this morning, I knelt in the chapel to say a thank you prayer. I thought about little Jethro who said the favorite part of his NYC trip a few weeks ago was singing a song with his family in the beautiful old sanctuary (built 1888) of this church with its stained glass windows. I wish I would have heard them sing.

Tomorrow we will worship in the sanctuary at Sugar Hill Mennonite Mission. There is no place I would rather be for a Sunday service. However, God is here. May you find yourself in the sanctuary of the Lord today and forever. Love, Berniece