I attended church services and/or Bible classes 3 times a week for over 32 years. That’s close to 5,000 assemblies (not counting gospel meetings and vacation Bible schools). But there was one time, I had another idea…
We played in Harding Park on Sunday afternoons. War games or sports games. Running around in the wide open spaces with the other kids from the neighborhoods. Sweating and yelling like crazy.
At about 3:30, moms would stick their heads out of doors, calling for their boys and girls to come home and get ready for the 4:00 church service. The park would be mostly deserted after that.
On one afternoon when the calls came, I decided not to run home. Not at 3:30 or 4:30 or even 5:30. I just put my head down and kept on playing. I was having too much fun. I would have kept on going too, right through the “late service”--the 6:00 evening worship service--if Dad hadn’t driven over to the park to find me … if he hadn’t rolled down the window of our car and shouted, “Hey, boy, hop in! We’re going to church!”
Yeah, if Dad hadn’t come by and picked me up, I might still be playing in the park right now.