I felt a sadness as I explored the three church buildings of Cades Cove. I felt a longing for what was and grieved for what would never be again. Each building retains the same beauty of its construction and ornamentation as they held before their congregations moved away. Though lacking modern accoutrements, all three church buildings have been well maintained and still house the accommodations and furniture employed by their former members. Unfortunately, they are today essentially museum exhibits, preserved for observation but not for use. This designation was a source of sadness and grief for me as I walked through these empty church buildings.

The architecture of church buildings often is designed for beauty, but esthetics is not the primary concern for the design of a church building. Church buildings may be beautiful, but they are not constructed singularly for esthetics but primarily for action. The three church buildings of Cades Cove are functional in form and simplistic in nature, built for ministry. While it is true that more sophisticated and moneyed congregations have built more elaborate and ornate structures than those that grace Cades Cove, they too are mostly functional in their architecture. Whether it be for preaching, teaching, or meeting a need in the community, church buildings are designed to support the church's ministry. And it is ministry that is at the heart of a church's existence.

My first solo hospital visit as a pastor did not go as planned. In fact, it went so badly that I hoped that the lady, whom I was visiting, did not remember the visit. I never even told her that I came to see her that day.

I was serving as an associate pastor of a little church while attending seminary. I was primarily responsible for student ministry. But on this occasion, our pastor was out of town, and I was covering the hospital visits. This was to be my first official pastoral visit. Sure, I had visited the hospital before, as well as gone with other pastors on such visits, but this was to be my first solo visit. I had no worries, why should I? Every other such visit I had been a part of seemed easy and tame. How could I have imagined that on that day, my experience would leave an indelible mark on my memory but one I would never reveal to the person I was visiting.

The Bibles on my shelves tell in part the story of my personal walk with the Lord. There is the 3-inch thick Parallel Bible with four translations that I used through high school. Then there is the well-worn, duct taped spine, two-inch-thick Bible I used throughout most of college. I do not know why I opted for such big Bibles back then. Next to this Bible is the much thinner (Ultrathin Reference Edition) Bible I used for some of my college years and into my seminary days. It does not have as much duct tape applied, but it is all the same, held together, both on the outside and the inside, with applications of tape. Duct tape is the poor man’s rebinding. In all three of these Bibles are margin notes that reference particular times when God was moving in my life. In all three there are highlighted scripture verses that God has used to comfort, convict, and challenge me. And all three hold a special place in my heart because they were a significant part of my life in their respective seasons.

With each of these Bibles, I set them aside and began to use the next one because I preferred to use a different size or typeset. Or, in the case of the last two, they were becoming so worn, with pages falling out. Time and wear had limited their ability to keep up with the rigors of accompanying me through life and ministry.