Footloose
As I parked the car, I thought of all the hundreds of times I had pulled into that parking lot. I got out of the car, took a deep breath and said “Joyce, you can do this! It’s only a church service.” My daughter had texted me earlier in the day saying she wanted to try out a program this church had for girls on Wednesday night. We spoke of Daisies. I remember my daughter in her yellow dress. In those days, they gave you clothe and a pattern and told you to make the dress yourself. I did. The yellow with her golden hair made her look like a ray of sunshine. You know, for your kids, you’ll do just about anything. Certainly, a visit to a church, a church that had once been so much a part of your life, was a small thing. For me, it wasn’t that small though. I had worked at that church for several years. I had pulled into that parking lot daily. In addition to the job, I taught adults. I preached in the pul...