Above Grass Congs

I arranged for the minister of Grassington Congregational Church to show me the internals this summer, something I have never previously manged to inspect. The main meeting room was neat but as one would imagine. Upstairs however, including the former gallery, has been filled in, with the space currently used for storage. The church and the Planners have different views regarding the potential of this area, but for now, it remains generally unused save for the storing of large items and gigantic children’s props: doesn’t every chapel and home need a cubbyhole into which junk may be speedily tidied away, or other items stored ad infinitum?

I sometimes think that my mind is like a junk room or cubbyhole, with an ever-increasing population of facts, quotes, names and dates. They are in there somewhere, but I cannot always lay my finger on them. This is not just the onset of senility or dotage; even young people can’t remember things. As a former teacher, I can most certainly vouch for this. Whatever I cannot recall, and whatever knowledge exists of which I remain ignorant the first time around, I know that which really matters: the gospel of grace. Whatever memories you store away, whatever morsel and snippets of info you have stacked in the recesses of your brain, know your Maker.

Jesus loves me, this I know,

for the Bible tells me so.

Little ones to him belong;

they are weak, but he is strong.

Yes, Jesus loves me! Yes, Jesus loves me!

Yes, Jesus loves me! The Bible tells me so.

-Anna Warner, 1859

Behold, You desire truth in the inward parts, and in the hidden part You will make me to know wisdom. Psalm 51:6, NKJV