Reconstruction of the West Liberty Christian Church



We won another victory over the tornado of 2012.

Almost four years after a horrible tornado took our 102-year old building from us, we moved into our new church building.

Previous to this, we worshiped at another church.  I know it was a great sacrifice on their part but they  graciously provided their building to us for about a year.   This was a wonderful act of kindness to a reeling church body after taking a devastating blow.  Luckily we were able to stagger back to our corner and get our wits about us.

We were at this time able to go through the difficult stages of shock and grief over our building.  Also the healing started as we dealt with the emotional attachment to a building that was so meaningful to many of us.  Seeing our children coming to accept the Lord Jesus and go through the act of baptism, walking some of those same children down the sloped aisle to their awaiting spouse, saying good-bye to those who meant so much to us at their funerals was on all  our minds as we started planning for a new building.  We all knew how hard it would be, for we had not planned on bidding adieu to our old friend on the corner of Prestonsburg and Broadway.

We then worshiped in a mobile unit for another eighteen months or so back on our lot.  As we stared at a vacant lot where the old building stood, a constant reminder of what was taken and how much work lay ahead of us as we tried to fill that same lot.

We then built a metal building on the back of our property and praised God there.  We shared this building with the food pantry.  On some Sundays we could smell rotten potatoes or onions or other produce.

Eventually God’s grace and mercy brought us through the storm as He promised.  We had our first service on the first Sunday of 2016.  We were so excited. We moved in before the building would be finished and we are still waiting for the downstairs and kitchen to be completed.

I am very grateful to our congregation for their perseverance and their faith in the one and only Creator.

I took this photo during the construction of our new church building and loved the shadows on a late afternoon.  You can see the domes of two buildings in the background, the dome on the right is atop our old, 109-year old court house.  The tornado weakened the roof and the dome collapsed into the courtroom.  The dome on the left is our new judicial building that was close to completion when the tornado hit.  It had to have major reconstruction.

Through it all, when our faith was struggling and our strength seemed to be fading, God answered our prayers and reminded us that His Grace is sufficient for us.

As I write this, I am listening to a song by Jeremy Camp called “Same Power”.  He sings about “the same power that rose Jesus from the grave, the same power that commands the dead to wake, the same power that moves mountains when He speaks, the same power that can calm a raging sea, lives in us.  He lives in us.”

I know we have a long way to go.  We still have to pay for this building.   But we have already had one to commit her life to the Lord Jesus and was baptized.  There will be more.  There will be weddings and funerals and memories for the next generations of God’s people, if He permits.  He has blessed His people since the beginning of time and will continue till the end of time.  Then Jesus will usher in His Kingdom and I will see some of those I said good-bye to in that old building.

After the tornado,  I was interviewed by CBS reporter Anna Werner as we looked at the pile of rubble that was the old building and she asked me what it would mean to see a new building standing here.  I replied, “God always wins.”

He has won another victory for our small town.

If you like this photo, you can see more of my pictures here.


Row Boat on Eleuthera Island

IMG_9650This was the yin to America’s yang, the gentle breeze to the nor’easter, the Sunday afternoon nap to the frenetic pace of Monday morning.

We landed at the diminutive North Eleuthera Airport.  My arrival at most airports start an immediate increase in heart rate,  sweat starts to roll like an Appalachian flash flood, my brain has to release enough endorphins to combat the stress of walking into the terminal feeling like a cobra slithering into a mongoose burrow.

But this, this was so different.  We were met with a sweet-tempered, warm rain and big broad smiles. My wife and I parked ourselves on the front porch of the terminal as if  we were waiting for a seat at Cracker Barrel for an after-church dinner.  We waited for my cousin and his lovely wife, who were our hosts for the week.  They were coming in on a later flight and arrived about a half hour later.

Instead of the anxiety storms in America, I was awash in serenity from the gitgo.  I felt like I was in the eye of a lilt.

My cousin rented a car from “Big E”.  When Big E’s rep shows up to give him the key and go over the paperwork, the front seat of the rental became the office.  When the transaction had been finalized, my cousin asked, “What do I do with the key when I return the car?”

Big E’s rep, “Just put it under the mat.”

Cuz, “What if someone steals it?”

Big E’s rep, “We are on an island. Where can they go? We just drive around till we find it.”

Occasionally, my attempt to engage in banter with the locals would take a strange turn.  I decided to cook dinner one night so we went down to the local dock to peruse the latest daily catch.  I found a local fisherman proudly displaying his wares.

Me, to local fisherman, “What kind of fish is that?”

Fisherman, “Jackfish.”

Me, “Does it taste fishy?”

Fisherman, “Does it taste like fish?”

Me, “I mean, does it taste too much like fish?”

Fisherman, with a little less smile and more confusion, “Don’t you want this beautiful fish to taste like fish?”

Me, ” I don’t think you understand what I’m asking.”

Fisherman, now totally exasperated, ” I think you want chicken!”

Evidently engaging in tete-a-tete in Paradise has a different thought process than the day-to-day in eastern Kentucky.

I left the poor confused soul muttering something about Americans with fish brains and bought a hog snapper instead.  I figured with a name like “hog snapper” it had to have enough of an identity complex so as not to taste too much like fish.  I was right, it was scrumptious.

In addition to dialogue taking different directions, time also seemed to take a not-so-American sense.

Me, to my cousin, “What time is it?”

Cuz, “Tuesday”

Time is difficult to explain.  Recalling my high school and college physics classes…well I can’t really recall them.  That seems to be one function of time.  Anyway, I always thought that time was the measurement between two physical events. Of course this is measured by a functional clock.

My observance of the relativity of time in a physical sense came from my wife.  She runs her life with the precision of a Swiss watch.  After a few days on this island, she removed hers from her wrist.  Time seemed to have a physical presence, not in an obtrusive, annoying I-wish-you-would-leave presence, but in a genteel, pleasant I-wish-you-would-stay presence.

One other conversation to report.  After the ATM gave me Bahamian dollars, which I mastered the exchange rate after about four days (it’s 1:1), I stated, “Why does it give me Bahamian dollars?”

Cuz’s lovely wife, ” Do we have to have the  fisherman conversation again?”

If you like this photo, you can see more of my pictures here.