OAKLAND HERITAGE CHURCH OF GOD: My Letter To The Editor

The Little White Church On The Hill

THE LITTLE WHITE CHURCH ON THE HILL

The old oak tree still stands on the hill, it’s branches spreading wide;
The cedar trees with their perfume, lined up, still stand beside
The cemetery, with tombstones old, so peaceful and so still,
But the centerpiece of this rural scene is the little white church on the hill.

Since 1883 it has stood there, a lighthouse to show the way,
A haven for the weary, a place for the burdened to pray.
Jacob Blickensderfer designed it, but God set the dream in his heart.
Oakland needed a churchhouse, where people could draw apart

And come to a place of worship when they needed sweet peace and rest;
A place where they felt God’s presence, when they needed to be blessed;
A place where they sought His healing when the physical body was ill;
Jacob built them this House of Worship, this little white church on the hill.

The bell tower guards the southern side, the bell rings loud and clear
Proclaiming the time of worship has come, as it’s done for many a year;
And the little white church with its doors open wide still welcomes God’s people in
Where the music rings out and the gospel is preached that you can be saved from your sin.

Weathered stones now compose the old library walls where ivy has grown through the years -
A memorial built more than a century ago in honor of one held so dear
Who wrote in his diary that family and business meant so much to him, but still
He was leaving a legacy for others to use– the little white church on the hill.

The old wooden cross which was hand made with love still beckons the weary to come;
It’s the first thing you see when you enter the church and you know that at last you are home
In the little white church which was built long ago for families who wanted to pray,
Where the altar is blessed and stained with the tears of those who were seeking the Way.

Sometimes in the silence of this sanctuary - I sit and it seems I can hear
The laughter of children from days long ago, the memories that now seem so near
Of Jacob, Louisa, and their children, too, who worshiped in this very place.
These walls heard their songs and echoed their prayers as they came to partake of His grace.

And then I can see their caskets, draped with sadness and flowers of mourning
Being carried away from this chapel outside to await the final dawning.
When their graves on this hillside will open and this building will be no more,
But the church will all be together on that happy golden shore.

And we will all share our precious memories of the times we gathered here
As we sang and prayed and worshipped in this place we all hold dear;
And I think even heaven will listen, and the angels will all be still
As we remember the blessings of Oakland, and the little white church on the hill.

Written by Pastor Joan Hart on July 26, 2002 in honor of the Oakland Heritage Church of God, formerly the Oakland United Methodist Church, and originally the Oakland Moravian Church, and in memory of Jacob Blickensderfer, who designed and built the church in 1883. Copyright 2002

Thursday, June 4, 2009

My Letter To The Editor

I have sent this to LDR. Let's see if they will have enough nerve to print it in Sunday's edition.

I am amazed at the accolades bestowed upon George Tiller, the Kansas abortionist, by our national TV media outlets this week. I refuse to use the title of doctor for him because he specialized in destroying life instead of saving it.

Let me say at the outset that I do not condone the killing of this man Tiller, but I must also say that he certainly lived much longer and enjoyed a much fuller life on earth than the 60,000 infants he murdered during his lifetime.

He was one of only five doctors in the United States who have so little compassion for human life that they can continue day after day to assassinate in cold blood these innocent babies who are just days away from birth. These are not potential human lives as some claim, but fully developed infants with heartbeats you can hear long before they exit the womb.

His victims numbered 60,000 at last count. That is almost twice the amount of men, women and children who live in Laclede County, and more than one-third of the total population of Greene County, including Springfield.

That is 60,000 precious babies who will never know the comfort of being held at their mothers’ breast or having their daddy rock them to sleep in his arms.

That is 60,000 toddlers who will never know the joy of swinging as high as they can go, or sliding down the plastic slide at the park, or hearing mommy read a bed time story to them.

That is 60,000 elementary age children who will never play soccer nor softball, never attend Sunday School, never go to a fair or the circus, and never meet the challenge of blowing out all the candles on their birthday cake.

That is 60,000 high school students who will never know the thrill of walking across the stage to the stirring strains of “Pomp and Circumstance” to receive their high school diploma, nor open that long awaited letter of acceptance from the university of their choice as they make plans for the career of their dreams.

That is 60,000 young men and women who will never be a bride, nor a groom, nor know the thrill of welcoming their first child into this world.

Had Tiller waited until those babies had taken their first breath outside the womb, he would have been held criminally liable for murder. But they were victims of discrimination because of their place of residence, inside their mother’s body where they had no place to run or hide to escape the cruel instruments of torture and death which invaded their private space at the hands of this monster.

This week I have known the great joy of having my two granddaughters spend a few days in my home, one of them a 9 year old who was born prematurely at an age even younger than most of Tiller’s victims. She is an intelligent beautiful born-again Christian already at this young age. My heart aches for family members, especially grandparents, who will never know the joy of loving these 60,000 children Tiller murdered.

And if any of you readers would dare to disagree with me, let me ask you just one question. Aren’t you glad your mother didn’t believe in abortion?