When I moved in with Mama, who was my grandmother at the time, I went to a little church north of Houston called Timber Lakes Baptist Church. While I went to TLBC, the Shireys took me under their wing. Mom was handicapped, so they drove 20 minutes out of their way every Sunday morning to give me a ride to church. I sat up front with Mrs. Sharron, and she showed me in the bible how that God was a father to the fatherless. We sat on the second pew back, on the right hand side, every Sunday morning until they moved back to East Texas.
Sitting on the second pew means that the music minister hears you singing, especially when you sing at the top of your voice as I do. It wasn't more than 6 months before Bro. Dean Watson told me to pick out a hymn, because I'd be singing a special. I sang, "What is That to Me?" When I was in junior high, and finally old enough to be in the youth group, Dean became my youth minister as well as my music minister. I was pretty sad when he passed the torch to a youth minister so that he could focus on the music ministry, let me tell you!
Being adopted by Mama meant that life was a little more difficult than "most" teenagers. Let's face it - - most teenagers are angsty and emotional; being raised by older parents who were physically limited just made it a little more difficult to understand the world. I spent many an hour in Brother Dean's office, trying to understand how to be a better daughter. Trying to understand why I felt so distant from everyone. When my best friend committed suicide, Dean came with the youth minister in the church van to pick me up from school. They would take me out to eat, just to make sure I was eating.
Brother Dean was the first person to teach me about memorizing scripture for panic attacks. I still remember the phone conversation where he instructed me to memorize Phillipans 4:4-8, and went through verse 8 word-for-word with me, instructing me to meditate on the things that would bring peace. He encouraged me to pursue music, and he's the reason I'm a church musician today.
When I was alone, discouraged, or bored, I'd call up Brother Dean or Mrs. Sharon at the church. I still have TLBC's phone number memorized, all these years later. I'd call up Mrs. Sharon when I wanted to know how in the world she made her amazing fried squash; in fact, I called her up just a few weeks ago to ask her about raising children in East Texas. I'd call up Brother Dean and make him listen (over the phone!) to whatever musical instrument I had taken up at the time. Have compassion on me; I was 19.
When I was in 7th grade, I went with the TLBC youth to music camp at Pine Springs Baptist Encampment in Henderson, Tx, where I met my husband. When we started dating 7 years later, I learned that the Watsons had been an integral part of my husband's family history as well. Charlie's parents had rented a house from Mrs. Sharon's family. Brother Dean had been my father-in-law's youth and music minister, and had sung at their wedding. It's no surprise that when Charlie and I were ready to be wed, we asked Brother Dean to officiate the wedding.
When we were dating, Charlie and I had a little conversation that went something like this:
(me) "I know this is going to sound silly, because East Texas is pretty big and all, but ... have you ever heard of a Charles and Sharron Shirey?"
(Charlie) "Have I heard of them? Charles Shirey was ONLY my favorite Sunday School teacher!"
(me) !!
(Charlie) "They still go to church at South Union. I can take you to see them. In fact, I can even take you to their HOUSE."
(me) !! !! !!Needless to say, I was more than a little excited.
It just keeps getting better. Mrs. Sharron was more than a little pleased to see my marriage choice. It was then that she shared with me how that, when they moved, they had always been a little anxious for me, to know what would happen to me when they left. They wanted to know that I would be cared for if anything happened to my elderly parents. When she found out that, of all the families in the world I could have married into, I married into The Guests from South Union, she felt that she could lay aside all concerns for my future, and glorify God for his provision.
As I sat in the service this morning, I marveled at how a broken child like me could grow up to be in such a stable family. I marveled at how my children were sitting in church with their family, surrounded by love, where I had been surrounded by a church family that took me in as their own. As I put my arm around my own daughter, I remembered Mrs. Sharron's protective arm around me as she opened her bible and showed me how much God loved me. As I watched Brother Dean's antics at the podium, I remembered the passion he instilled in me for church. Yes, church! As I sat in the service this morning, I remembered what it was like to want to stay at church, and not want to go home. I wanted to sing to God, with my family, with the people who loved me, and I didn't want it to end.
As a church pianist, I help make the service, but I don't take it in the way a member of the congregation does. You don't have 500 strong people singing out behind you. You aren't surrounded by the choir. In fact, if I didn't have the lid down on the grand piano, I wouldn't be able to see the director clearly. But, this Wednesday night, when I return to my piano bench, I will remember. The next time I sing a solo, I will remember. The next time I see the unwanted girl sitting in the back of the church, I will remember, and I hope that I will act accordingly.
"Keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life. And of some have compassion, making a difference:" -- Jude 1:21-22, KJV
