I grew up in a little country church of 100 — maybe 150? — congregants, including children. While I have always loved my upbringing there, I find myself drawing from it more and more as I raise my children. The impact my 16 years had on me is immense.

I think of Ms. Tracy every time I sing “Peter, James, and John in a Sailboat” to my daughter, which is almost daily because she loves it that much. I think of Ms. Martha’s fervent, heartfelt prayers. I think of Ms. Marion’s creativity with teaching us children songs in Children’s Church. And of Ms. Karen’s constant love and outpouring of care for each of us every Sunday.

I think of Ms. Oma’s comforting presence in the church nursery. I think of Brother Bimber’s wordy sermons and kind smile, and Pastor Allen’s easy laughter and ability to welcome anyone and everyone into our church. I remember Sondra’s easygoing, glass-half-full personality and the way she and Eston poured themselves into the teens. I remember Shara’s powerful voice and the way every special she sang brought my dad to tears. I remember the alter calls, the hymns sung from the very hymnal we use in our homeschool each day. Dorothy’s convicting testimonies and Katie’s faithful walk with Jesus. Bill’s booming voice and Kathy’s “whisper” that was always a little too loud, but you loved her for it anyway.

The VBS programs, the Labor Day hog roasts, the afterglows, the children’s Christmas programs, and the many, many communion services. My dad getting saved there. Me being dedicated there. My parents were married there.

I think of Tiffany’s worship, Tom’s drum kit that always allured us children even though we weren’t supposed to touch it, and Rachel’s post at the piano, and how worship never really sounds the same to me on Sunday mornings, even now. Sara’s kindness and beauty to me as a little girl, Ray and Jody’s leadership of the teens, followed by Jim’s unconditional love and wisdom when I was one, myself. Pastor Mark’s wise counsel, Brother Bennett’s tenderness and dedication to sharing the Gospel. My Nana and Papaw’s prayers, obedience, and consistency. And my mom and dad… there aren’t enough words or adequate descriptions to express the way their faith and obedience impacted me.

These people and so many, many more people helped to form and shape not only my childhood, but the faith that I now hold. Still today, they’re the memories I go back to and remember fondly as I try to impart the faith to my own precious little ones.

Those of you who have grown up in the church, remember to thank the ones who have gone before you in faithfulness and obedience. And to those who are serving every week, even when it grows monotonous or stale, keep serving. Keep pouring into the hearts of people around you, especially the children and teenagers. You will never know the measure of influence you have had in their lives, even long after you’re gone from this earth. It is powerful.

To each person mentioned here and the others I have not, thank you. Thank you for how you raised me and the other children in our church. Thank you for your dedication and diligence. Your endurance and commitment. Your faith that was evident in your fruitful lives. It was not, ever, in vain.