When you’ve attended church at the same perish for nearly 16 years, there’s really no point in calling the people involved in the church just parishioners; they’re family. Throughout St. Mark’s congregation, I have multiple friends (ages 2-80), mentors, prayer partners, godparents and other parent-like figures. How lucky am I?
St. Marks has blessed me with the best Godmother a little girl could ask for. Mrs. Pamela Prewitt has been there for every occasion, every blessing and almost every Sunday to hug me and ask how I’m doing with the best Aunt Pammy smile without fail, hesitation or holding back any love. Mrs. Ames, one of the most inspirational ladies in my church, has always been there for me and insists that I come to her if I ever need anything. The special thing about that is I know she actually means it and will be actively praying for me and holding my hand without any judgment if I need it. Mrs. Judy, the DeMontels, the Straus’, Johnsons, the Pierces, Janoseks and so many more have been an incredible stronghold while growing up and still today. I know these are all just names to the social media world, but these names mean so much more to me than many of you will understand.
Now as I’ve said before in my previous writings, I am far from perfect or on track about following the good examples that are set for me. I’m so blessed with this church family , but I definitely take it for granted far too much. I end up complaining that I’m under a microscope, can never get away with anything and how embarrassing it is when my dad uses stories about me in his sermons. I know, I’m just being bratty now.
Going back through these complaints though helps me realize just how bratty and self-absolved I really am. I’m not under a microscope, I’m just being looked out for by people who love me and care. I can never get away with anything because the fam has my back and they know better than I do.(and the things I’m trying to get away with are probably better simply not done at all) And my dad using me in his sermons is just because he loves me and I coincidently make great examples (And don’t forget, I’m the favorite…and I secretly love the attention anyways).
For me, going to church at St. Mark’s is like going home to hang out with my crazy family. I can’t thank them enough for making my experience as a PK as welcoming and homey as they have. I love my church family.