1 week ago
A Smokies Sunday
Church bells are ringing, the choir’s singing.
Singing the hymns that their grandmothers would hum to add joy to the hard work that had to be done... The children of the hills - laughin’, skippin’ and pickin’ wildflowers along the way to the churches where their fathers were saved.
A sunny summer Sunday - often filled with rain showers and rainbows... How many Sundays do they have left?
Only God knows.
A day for rest, yes, but the fields still need to be mowed... Herders are heading back from Spence Field to join in down by the creek to celebrate the salvation that their spirits seek.
Their sins washed clean by ice cold Smokies water... With promises to spend eternity with those that are already resting in peace.
Loved ones that are gone but never forgotten.
A hard life, a simple life - but a life where blessings are counted daily, prayers are said every night at their bedside and even when everything goes wrong, all is still right.
All is right, on a Smokies Sunday. 💚