OVER MY SHOULDER

I attended the Easter sunrise service last week. It was truly an inspiration. There were about 30 individuals who gathered on the South parking lot of the First Baptist Church for the service.

The morning was clear and cool---the birds were singing as if to announce that spring was here, and to announce the resurrection of our Savior. The songs in the morning air had a special meaning as we sang with the piano in the distance background. We had a very inspirational message from Yong Bo Lee, the young Korean Pastor who ministers to the Altamont United Methodist Church.

Just as the last hymn “He Arose” was sung, the sun peeked through the buildings to the east----it was truly an inspirational moment as we sang and the sun became brighter.

I was reminded of the Easter breakfasts and sunrise services that we held on a hill in a pasture North of Blue Mound when I was in Junior High and High School. It was a tradition that the Methodist Youth Fellowship held such an event each Easter.

It was through the dedication of such people as Eddie and Opal Ferguson, Lorrine Bayless and our minister (depending on who was serving the Blue Mound church at that time) that these events would happen. I have noticed that things do not just happen---that someone has to see to the details and make a special effort to bring about the moment. I know that it is late----but I would want to thank these and any other “saints” that provided leadership to me and our group when we were growing up. Leaders like this are important to youngsters at anytime---and it seems that we do not have enough of them sometimes.

These people along with some of the youth would make the necessary preparations, rise very early, and have the bonfire going with hot chocolate when most of us would arrive at the appointed hour.

The minister and the various youth would lead the singing, read the scripture and the prayer, and proclaim the work. In some cases as the North wind howled around our ears---in some years as snow flurries danced around our head---and on some mornings under rain coats to protect us from the Spring sprinkles. (of course it is not unusual for Methodists to get sprinkled.)

In the cool morning air, we could hear those regular morning sounds form the near by farm--the roosters crowing, the dogs barking, doors slamming as the screen door spring snapped the door shut, cows softly mooing as the farmer went to the barn to feed and to milk. An occasional undistinguishable voice could be heard, as the farmer called to the livestock and visited with those helping him. On another level, one could hear the birds singing, an occasional vehicle as it went by on the country road, and the wind whistling in the trees.

As we would sit huddled around the fire eating the scrambled eggs, bacon, and campfire toast with our hot chocolate, it seemed that you were always in the campfire smoke regardless of how many times you moved. Of course we said that the smoke always follows beauty--but not everyone agreed when some of us were in the smoke.
Have you ever noticed how much better food tastes when it is cooked over a campfire, and eaten outside?

In awhile---some times during the worship service, and sometimes during the breakfast, the sun would appear over the little hill to our east. I can recall the thrill of seeing that first little “peep” of sun and the few moments that the red glow would grow and become a large disk in the eastern sky. Have you ever notice how fast the sun comes up (or goes down) once it gets to the horizon? The sun always seems a brighter red and much larger at sunrise or sun set.

These particular moments in my life were a great inspiration to me. After all of these years, I find that “Life is made up of moments”----moments which go much too fast--moments which seem to be fleeting and gone----moments which rarely return, but do become a part of our memory and a part of our life. The secret is to gather all of these moments into our life as a part of us, to share and pass them on to our family as they become a part of our family culture. LDC