Do you remember sitting around with your family members and telling stories and talking about the past? Memories of days gone by and all the wonderful parts of life that there are to celebrate. Mundane days and memorable days.
Listening to my dad tell stories has always been a big part of my childhood. I can remember sitting around the adult table as a child, taking in all the stories and dialogue about my parents’ early years as young pastors in the small churches they started in.
My dad has a rich preacher voice with a soothing tone and it’s been something that has calmed my fears and soothed me growing up. I could hear that voice talking down the hall when I was in bed falling asleep as a little girl. That voice was all I needed to hear to fall into a deep calm sleep.
As a little girl, this was a priceless way to grow up. Those stories were everything. I could listen to them over and over again. One was remembered recently when my mom talked about going back to their old church here in Marietta. They were remembering when the new part of the church was being built and my dad did a lot of work on the church himself. A little neighborhood boy stopped by one day, curious about what was going on inside that church that was being built and walked through the church looking at everything.
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