Progress Blues

I live next to a church. More specifically,  this church.

And when I say I live next to it, I'm right behind it. In fact, this is the view from my bedroom window.

I can see into their kitchen from my bed. 

They have had a sign up on the outskirts of our small town that says "Future Home of First United Methodist" since I moved here 17 years ago. Last year they finally broke ground,  and yesterday they had their first service there. They had been frantically stripping items from the old building so they could be ready for the last two weeks, and Saturday was a hum of activity.  They even took the stained glass windows.

Yesterday, the building sat silent, and today it seems even more so. I will miss chatting with the caretaker and his wife. I will miss the sounds of the small children playing in the playground adjacent to my yard. I will miss the pre-school Easter egg hunts and Halloween costume parades. I will miss watching nervous wedding parties lining up outside the big doors and solemn funeral attendees clasping one anothers hands. I will miss the boy scouts that met there Monday nights running up and down the alley. I will miss the slapping of the kitchen screen door on certain Sunday's when a special breakfast is being served. I will miss the hum of life that always surrounded that building, and by extension, my home as well. 

I'm sure their new building is chock full of all the latest and greatest, but I'm pretty potsitive it is lacking in the character of the amazing building I live next to.