McIntosh United Methodist Church

09/23/2026

09/15/2026

One ship drives east and another drives west
With the selfsame winds that blow.
‘Tis the set of the sails and not the gales
Which tell us the way to go.
Like the winds of the sea are the ways of fate,
As we voyage along through life:
‘Tis the set of a soul that decides its goal,
And not the calm or the strife.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox

09/13/2026

🍁Hope you’ve circled Oct. 25, 2026, on your calendar for…. Homecoming!!Service begins at 11a, with our former pastor, Bro David Cook, as our guest speaker; Cookie sharing her gift on the piano, and special singing by Fran & Sadie Thornton and Randy & Terri Grimes! Join us for a blessed time in the Lord! Delicious food provided after!🙏🏽🙌🏽🎶🍽️

07/26/2026

Early notice…mark your calendar… Homecoming is on October 25th, at 11:00a!! It would be such a blessing to see YOU!!!

05/15/2026

🇺🇸We welcome you to our Memorial Day service in Andrews Chapel, May 24th at 11:00a. Our guest speaker will be Chaplain James Jones, Veteran of the Coast Guard. Lunch will be served after the service! Join us in honoring our Veterans!🇺🇸🦅

05/10/2026

A Mother’s Day Story *

A woman named Emily, renewing her driver’s license at the County Clerk’s office was asked by the woman clerk to state her occupation. She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.
“What I mean is,” explained the clerk, “do you have a job, or are you just a …”
“Of course I have a job,” snapped Emily. “I’m a mother!”
“We don’t list ‘Mother’ as an occupation, ‘Housewife’ covers it,” said the clerk emphatically.
I forgot about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high-sounding title like “Town Registrar,” but I thought, “Official Interrogator!”
“What is your occupation?” she probed.
What made me say it, I do not know! The words simply popped out of my mouth! “I’m a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations.”
The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair and looked up as though she had not heard me correctly. I repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared in amazement as my pronouncement was written in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.
“Might I ask,” said the clerk with new interest, “just what do you do in your field?”
Cooly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, “I have a continuing program of research, (what mother doesn’t), in the laboratory and in the field, (normally I would have said indoors and out). I’m working for my Masters, (the whole darned family), and already I have four credits (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the Humanities, (any mother care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it!). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are much more of a satisfaction than just money.
There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk’s voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally escorted me to the door. As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants—ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model (my 6-month-old baby) in the Child Development Program, testing out a new vocal pattern.
I felt so triumphant! I had scored a point on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than “just another mother.”
Motherhood! What a glorious career! Especially when there is a title on the door!
I wondered, does this make grandmothers “Senior Research Associates in the field of Child Development and Human Relations?” Great grandmothers “Executive Senior Research Associates?”
I believe it does! I also believe it makes Aunts “Associate Research Assistants.”
Happy Mother’s Day, y’all!

*This article made the internet rounds in 2003. There was no author’s name listed, so I simply say, “Thank You!”
Arthor Unknown.

Bro. Digger

05/10/2026

Stepmothers: A Mother’s Day Tribute

It is one of the most beautiful Mother's Day stories I know. It all began when a young couple asked me to officiate their wedding. I explained my usual requirement: a minimum of eight premarital counseling sessions. They agreed, and we began the journey.
At the end of eight sessions, this couple wasn’t ready to stop. They wanted more. Pleasantly surprised, I agreed to continue. One of the key issues we explored was not uncommon: it was her first marriage and his second. He had a six-year-old son from his previous marriage.
As we worked through the dynamics of step-parenting, I offered this young woman a sobering truth. “There will be moments,” I said, “when that little boy will look you straight in the eye and shout, ‘You ain’t my mama and you ain’t gonna tell me what to do!’ He will test you. He may try to pit you against your husband. He may stir up tensions with grandparents. His grades might suffer. He will create distractions whenever and wherever he can.”
“When those moments come,” I continued, “don’t take it personally. He’s not your enemy. He’s a confused child, hurting and scared. He doesn't understand why his real mommy and daddy can’t be together, so he may blame you. But remember this: the only way through it is agapē—God’s unconditional love.”
“Agapē him,” I said. “Again and again and again. And because you are created in the image of God—and God is agapē—you can do this. But understand: agapē is not sugar-coated, sentimental, or permissive. It doesn’t indulge every whim. It always, without exception, seeks the highest good of the one loved. So, love him—and you will win him.”
This young stepmother took that message to heart. She didn’t just listen—she studied, read, prayed, and practiced love in ways that astonished me.
Over the next seven years, everything I had warned her about—and more—came to pass. Still, she never gave up. Many times, she called me at the end of her rope. But she never let go of the rope. Her love held firm.
At age thirteen, the boy chose to move in with his biological mother. He rejected his stepmother openly. Even then, she kept loving him. She stayed in touch. She prayed. She waited. Within six months, the boy realized the truth—that his biological mother cared more about herself and her addictions, than about him. And for the first time, he saw clearly: his stepmother loved him. Deeply. Unconditionally. He came back home. He began to thrive—excelling in school, in sports, and in life. He became a joy to all.
This Mother’s Day, many of us will pause to thank God for the gift of our biological mothers—for their love, their sacrifices, their presence in our lives. If they are still with us, let us tell them today just how much we appreciate them. And if they’ve gone on to glory, may we offer our prayers of gratitude for the love they gave us.
But especially today, let us thank God for the Stepmothers. The ones who choose to love children who are not their own. Who agapēd those children through the storms of step-parenting. Because as long as God continues to raise up women like these, children from broken homes can still have one powerful thing:
H O P E… Bro. Digger

05/09/2026

04/16/2026

🎉🥳HAPPY BIRTHDAY to our Godly, wonderful, kind, caring, intelligent, funny, rabbit-chasing Pastor🤠!! We all love you, Bro. Digger, and pray you celebrate many, many more! We’re blessed with the best… and we thank God for you!!✝️🙌🏽♥️

04/05/2026

Holy Communion – The Cup

Velma Barfield Was the first woman to be executed in 22 years in the United States. Her crimes were hideous. She murdered her fiancée, two other people, and even her own mother.
But while in prison, and prior to her ex*****on, Velma gave her heart to Christ and became a Christian. Velma’s close friend, Anne Graham Lutz, revealed that this former murderess changed completely and became a godly woman.
As the hour of her ex*****on drew near and eternity seemed but a step away, Velma needed reassurance that her sins were forgiven. Listen to what Mrs. Lutz said to this new believer and then place it deep within your own heart.
“Have you ever been to a beach and noticed the tiny crab holes?” Mrs. Lutz asked.
“Yes, I have,” said Velma, perhaps a bit puzzled by the seeming change of subject.
“Have you ever watched children digging holes in the sand to build sandcastles with?” Mrs. Lutz continued. Velma nodded her head affirmatively.
“And have you ever seen the huge holes dug by those large cranes when they are trying to widen a channel somewhere by the beach?”
“I have seen them once or twice,” admitted Velma.
Mrs. Lutz then made her point. “Velma, you've seen all types of holes at the beach: small holes, middle sized holes, and huge holes. But what happens when the tide comes in? The tide covers them all equally. Velma, that is exactly what happens when your sins are covered by the blood of Jesus. Small sins, middle-sized sins, big sins, all are covered equally by the blood of Jesus.
As we take this cup as a symbol of the shed blood of Jesus Christ for all of our sins, it is my prayer for all of us that we will honestly just now confess our own sins to God and allow the blood of Jesus Christ to cover each and every one of them. And then, let us leave this place today, determined to tell one and all of God's great love for us in Christ Jesus, his son, and our Lord.
Bro. Digger