My husband, Mark, and I met in Dallas in 1984 after graduating from college at Texas A&M University.  We were engaged the following year and began the process of planning a wedding and joining our families and our lives.  Mark was raised in a Southern Baptist church, and I was raised Lutheran.  We both experienced the tradition of church on Sundays, every Sunday.  Our families were entrenched in the lives of their respective churches, as were we.   Choosing a church home was a challenge for us because we were loyal to our previous denominations, and we were loyal to our family traditions.  However, after hours of impassioned discussion, multiple visits to our respective ministers, and significant investigation into other Christian denominations, we decided to become Methodists.  As United Methodists, we were not required to be reconfirmed or rebaptized.  We just had to come to the altar and profess our faith.  Aside from having grandparents who were active Methodists, we also reasoned that a simple profession of faith at the foot of the altar was the way Jesus would want it for us.

In 1986, we joined Lover’s Lane UMC in Dallas and began our lives together.  I worked at SMU in the Counseling Center and Mark worked in telecommunications.  We had an adorable home near White Rock Lake, great friends, and a church home we loved.  However, in 1991, Mark’s boss encouraged him to apply for a management position within the company.  It was a great opportunity, but the job was in Houston, not Dallas.  Nothing against Houston, but at the time, we had no desire to leave Dallas.  Still, Mark needed the experience of interviewing for that type of position, and we were assured that actually getting the job was a “long-shot.”  After several rounds of interviews, it looked like Mark might be a serious contender for the position.  So, we reluctantly came to Houston to check things out.  We weren’t impressed.  The city was much larger than Dallas.  The traffic seemed worse.  We couldn’t find a neighborhood “close-in” that resembled our’s near White Rock Lake.  So, we went home and thought this opportunity would likely fizzle out.  Much to our surprise, several more interviews followed, and then the job offer came.  How could that be?  This didn’t seem right!  Mark’s boss was equally surprised but encouraged us to take another visit to Houston in order to decide about the job.  We reluctantly agreed.

It was Easter weekend and my 31st birthday.  We were staying at, what was then, the Doubletree Hotel on Post Oak Blvd., and we planned to attend church that Sunday morning.  We asked the concierge for the address of the nearest Methodist church, and though not the closest to the hotel, he gave us the address for St. Luke’s.  We arrived a few minutes before the 11:00 am service was to start.  What a mistake!  As we all know, you don’t arrive to Easter or Christmas services at St. Luke’s “a few minutes early” and expect to find a seat.  Fortunately, that morning, we took the last two open seats in the top row of the balcony.  The sanctuary was spectacular!  The chancel choir and accompanying music was electric!   Dr. Moore was riveting and on point, as always!  When the children came running to the front of the church for the Children’s Sermon, it was a sea of pastel rompers and Easter bonnets.  At the end of the service, as the Hallelujah chorus concluded, Mark and I looked at each other and in unison said, “We’re moving!”  That began the journey of moving to Houston, not to take a job, but to join St. Luke’s.  The job was suddenly secondary, and having a house near the lake no was longer necessary.

Over the past 29 years, we have raised our children, Weston and Audrey here.  They were baptized here, confirmed here, and served alongside us here.  They, together with Mark and I, have met our very best friends at St. Luke’s.  We have worshipped together, served together, cried together, mourned together, and celebrated together.  St. Luke’s has been our home.  It is where God lead us.  It is where He introduced us to our faith family, a family that continues to grow in number and in spirit. We found our faith family at St. Luke’s on Easter Sunday in 1991, when we weren’t even looking!  Happy 75th Birthday, St. Luke’s Family!!!