The Abandoned Country Church
i keep asking God why, but he just laughs
Am I standing on Holy Ground?
Amidst the corn stubble, dusted in snow, sits an antiquated country church. Abandoned to both time and the elements. Forgotten. Little more than a weather-beaten beacon of unexamined scenery lost in the agrarian milieu.
For only God knows what reasons it remains empty. Or, if some humans do, they are not around to speak of it. What has come of them?
The solitude and decadence of this scene now seems ungodly. Was this place ever holy? Does this sacred gathering place now lie forsaken?
Ages past, the faithful once congregated here. This was a gathering place. A space for worship and community, a living, breathing fellowship. The Bible says that ‘where two or three gather in my name, I am there also’ (Matthew 18:20). But no one gathers here anymore. Or, if they do it is surely not in the name of God. It is in the name of vandalism, or a dare taken. The name of rural teenaged angst looking for a secret reprieve, perhaps. Is anyone who happens by seeking God in this place?
I came myself in the name of curiosity, beckoningly lured by the mélange of sacred and profane. I am a seeker of sorts, a seeker of understanding, but with many questions left unanswered. I peer into the broken windows at the peeling paint, the debris scattered on the floor. I am inquisitive of the story of this place. What has transpired here that this building now rests irreverent and forlorn?
Can God still be found in this place? If you ask directly, no reply is received—at least not one that you can understand. Maybe the rustle of the wind through the cornstalks or the occasionally passing car calls out for your attention. Was this God’s answer, or just his laugh?
keep asking why, and maybe someday you will understand