Listening to the Bells: A Personal Call to Deeper Faith

Faith - noun. Merriam-Webster defines faith as “something that is believed especially with strong conviction,” “complete trust,” and a “firm belief in something for which there is no proof” “Belief, trust, and loyalty to God”

My faith journey began when I was seven years old. My family (mom, dad, sister and me) lived briefly with my paternal grandmother in Mattapan. My sister, Edie, told my mom one Sunday that she was taking me to church. I wasn’t sure what that was but, I was going with my sister and had to wear a dress! My dad gave us a ride to Mattapan Baptist Church; it was a large stone building with many stained-glass windows and beautiful sounding church bells. We went into the sanctuary with long wooden pews and lots of people. Soon after the service began, the kids were brought to the Sunday

school classes in the lower level. This was all new to me; we sang songs and colored in papers with Bible stories on them and I wasn’t quite sure what the stories meant and I learned a song that “Jesus Loves Me”.

I attended with my sister for quite a while, then she was going to be married and my parents were moving to a town called Brockton. It was a while before I returned to church but I had my children’s Bible and would read the stories about this man called Jesus and his followers and I wanted to know more about Him.

A few years went by and I used to spend summer vacation with my sister and family in Squantum. Again I heard church bells, my sister said “Oh those are from First Church up the hill, they have Vacation Bible school in the summer”, so off I went with my nephews, still being called to learn about Jesus.

Several years later while in junior high school a friend asked if I would like to come to church with her and her family. My mom said sure. That was First Parish Congregational in Brockton, another huge stone church. This one had a steeple with many bells that would play on Sunday morning. I attended there for a while and soon the Sunday came when the junior high Sunday school was going to participate in the worship service on Children’s Day.Well, that did not come to pass as sometime during the night before Children’s Day there was a fire at the church and it burned to the ground. I wondered how this could happen! On a temporary basis, we were able to

use space in a neighboring church for worship and Sunday school. The church was eventually rebuilt in a few years…fast forward that was the church Bob and I were married in in 1978. It was a modern building but they were able to save the bells from the damaged bell tower. The bells still sounded so pretty.

Moving on to Hanson, our home was on Route 14 and life got busy but church bells were still calling me. Finally, one Sunday, I said to Bob, “We need to go to church.” First Congregational Church was literally the next street behind ours so off we went to the “typical New England church with a spire reaching to the sky”. We entered the church and were greeted by one of the deacons, who we soon found out was Brian Clemons (brother of Allan Clemons), who welcomed us with a handshake and “Welcome, glad you’re here!” I immediately felt like I was home and that God resided in this place. Still growing in my faith with Bible study, joining the church

choir, women’s retreats & ladies’ groups in the church, assisting with Vacation Bible School and eventually being VBS director I felt this was the next step in my journey.

Along the way, like most people, there were times when I wasn’t sure life was going in the right direction. I prayed that whatever turmoil was happening it would be fine. My mom was diagnosed with cancer. Chemo and radiation worked for a while then it didn’t. She lost her battle when I was 35 and I was devastated. How could I go on? I had two small children and mom was supposed to be there. Bit by bit the Lord showed me that with my faith and the help of my church family I could get through the

sadness. Little things would happen and I would ask God to keep my family safe and that gave me sense of calm; like He was wrapping his arms around me to say it was okay.

Several years later my dad had a massive heart attack, again I asked for God’s help in keeping my family safe. I remember that day I was sitting in the choir loft during prayer and asking Him to help my dad recover. Suddenly I felt a warmth that I never had before and heard a voice saying to me “It will be okay, have faith”. It shook me. Was I really hearing the voice of God? I surely must have because after church I got a phone call that my dad was stable and asking to see his family.

Months and years passed with things going along as they should when my son was having difficulty with addiction. We prayed for his recovery and its ups and downs with me frequently asking God a simple prayer “Keep him safe, Lord” and all these years later he has.

Sometime in 2008, I felt that I was being “called” to a different church so I spent several months “church shopping”. One day Tina Palmer said “Why not come to Silver Lake Chapel?” I took her up on her offer, just me going to the little church on Lake Street. Rev Henry Belcher was the pastor then. When I walked through those big white doors, once again I was greeted by a deacon, Tom Roberts, who grabbed by hand and said “Welcome, we are glad you are here”! At that moment I truly felt like I was home and that warmth wrapped around me again and I knew that God resided here. There were so many kind people welcoming a stranger into their congregation.

The following week, Bob joined me for worship, which became a regular occurrence with us becoming members of Silver Lake Chapel that fall.

This is a most welcoming church with folks who treat you like family and reach out to the community to help when and where needed be it donations for the food pantry, preparing dinner for a local over 55 community or just to listen when someone needs a caring ear. I continue to learn about Jesus through worship services, Bible studies, and my Bible. I am thankful that my sister and those church bells brought me to church so long ago.

Ginny Sears