Mayberry Sunday

This past Sunday, Bill and I sat in the very last row at church. It's an outsider's post really, but I'm a people watcher so I have to say that I enjoy the view from back there.

I adore the elderly couple that greets everyone at the door with a smile, a greeting, and a bulliten. They come into the service after it starts to make sure any late-comers get a greeting. They are divinely sweet and every week, you can count on them to wear matching outfits. This particular Sunday they chose angelic white cable knit sweaters, matching heads of short gray hair, and black slacks. I tend to think that all the thought they put into their attire means that they really look forward to Sunday. I smile as they come into the service as they help each other with each and every move. They are frail and he uses a cane to help him walk on a hurt foot. They hobble to their seats -- the same two seats every week. Of course they are remarkably thoughtful so they choose the seats closest to the door so they won't disturb the service. They snuggle into their seats and sit for the rest of the service. I lean in a little closer to my Bill and my heart sighs. What a beautiful picture of pure love they are.

When the music starts, I look over to the elderly women sitting up a few rows from us. There is a group of them that always sit together. I watch them turn down their hearing aids. Again I'm sitting there like a smiling fool. They just make my heart happy with how they don't ever complain or scowl (or maybe that's because I can only see the back of their heads, but whatever). They just enjoy the service . . . low volume style.

The lady sitting down from us is dressed up from head to toe. She has a lovely brown hat and suit on. Her style makes me think of Mayberry and Aunt Bea. I bet she has a fresh baked apple pie waiting to be eaten after a hearty Sunday meal.

The music plays on, and I can't help but notice the "joyful noise" coming from somewhere in the service. I won't be specific. That would be rude, but I smile on as she keeps singing "joyfully" off key. And yet, I wonder how the man standing next to her keeps a straight face. But alas! He isn't rude either. I almost wish they'd crank up the music pastor's microphone to drown her out, but hey! That would rude. Sheesh! I don't sing well either . . .

By now you are probably wondering if I do anything but people watch. In the back row, no. That's all I do. I should sit closer to not have so many distractions. People are far too interesting.

As the pastor starts preaching, I snuggle in close to my Bill. I can't help but listen to every word . . . he is that good! I get convicted and challenged. But that's another blog story for some other time.