Staunton Star - Times - Published in the Interest of the Staunton Community for Over 143 Years

Occasionally, I used to visit the place called God’s Kingdom. It lay quiet as a kitten where two rivers flow, and for a time it was my kingdom. Here I was given the three little churches nobody wanted, and I think perhaps preachers do not go there anymore. It was a world of foghorns and tugboats cutting slices through my bedroom window at 3 a.m. and sharing life with one determined river rat that refused to vacate the parsonage. Along with M. Rat, I was given a thousand potholes on those muddy roads, one awesome flood, and some yellow finches in Titus Holler and road kill. If ever I stood with one foot in heaven and one foot in the river, it was there where I learned to walk carefully on the bridge of faith. Sometimes, I climbed high up to the great hills where floods could not go and other days I drew the sweetness from soft apple blossoms into my soul. Each allowing me to find the strength to keep my hand upon the pilot wheel of the Master.

In remembering, it is truly a symbol of how all of us must do life as we live by the grace of God, adapting daily to the changes we all must share. One never knows whether we will have rain with lightning or rainbows. We can learn something from each one if we will, while we travel the roads and keep the faith, so help us God

Rev. Richardson (ret.)