It is better to dwell in a corner of the housetop, than with a brawling woman in a wide house. Prov 21:9 KJV
I’m nearing the end of a week of traveling that has taken me through 6 airports on 4 airlines in order to: observe and document the weekend worship experiences of one of the pioneer multisite churches in the US; participate in a 3 day conference; launch Auxano’s Vision Room; and take part in a training initiative. The last event ended up in Nashville, where I joined the rest of the Auxano team for a daylong Navigator learning opportunity.
I was able to take advantage of my schedule and spend the night at my mother’s house, working on a few projects around the house before heading back to Charlotte later today.
One of those projects required me to go up into the attic of our house to bring something down. Once I climbed the folding stairs, a rush of memories flooded me. This wasn’t your normal attic – this was my teenage bedroom.
A little more about information is necessary. In the late 60’s, as my older brother was beginning high school and I was beginning to start junior high, my father thought it would be a good idea if my brother and I had separate rooms – we had been sharing a room since I was born. My dad asked if I would work with him and convert our attic into a bedroom for me.
What an adventure! Over the course of several months, we spent time putting in floors and walls, carpet, an air conditioner, and shelving. It worked great! During the remaining years of junior high then into high school I enjoyed using the initial bedroom plus an expansion that more than doubled the size of the original room.
Walking into that space this morning, my eyes fell on this:
It was my dad’s business checkbook, with the last check written to close out the account when he retired in 1994 after 44 years of operating a Gulf gas station.
That visual took me back in an instant to the years I spent in, around, and all over the gas station. Over the next few minutes, as I finished my work in the attic-turned-bedroom-turned into a storage room, I was transported back in time.
I won’t bore you with those stories (at least not now), but my point is this:
Images convey stories that touch the heart
How are you using images in your church?