05/31/2026
If you were unable to join us for worship today, allow me to share this letter with you which was in the morning bulletin:
A Year on the Road
What an honor it is to walk these roads with you—not ahead of you, not behind you, but among you—as pastor, guide, and fellow traveler. In just a month, we will mark one year together on this new journey called a Charge.
One year of learning names and stories, of laughter in fellowship halls, of prayers whispered in sanctuaries, of worship rising from three churches across miles and county lines. We have gathered often—in pews and fellowship halls, around altars and around tables, breaking bread, sharing burdens, passing casseroles, communion, and care.
The roads between us are real roads. At least 150 miles a week, sometimes more, just for office hours and Sunday mornings—not counting hospital rooms, home visits, District meetings, Conference gatherings, and the thousand small trips that ministry quietly requires.
And still, I am thankful. Because I do not travel these roads as some of our forebears did. Francis Asbury rode horseback through mud, rain, mountains, and wilderness. This twenty-first century Saddlebag Preacher travels with air conditioning, a mid-sized SUV, and considerably fewer saddle sores.
This summer will ask something of us. With the Route 68 bridge closure ahead, our miles may lengthen, our schedules may bend, and familiar paths may change. But I have confidence in us. I believe we will remain flexible, willing to try new things, patient with one another, and open to where God may lead.
Each church will continue to be fully itself—rooted in its own community, growing where it is planted. And together, we will keep discovering how to bless one another across distance, across county lines, across all the places between here and there. So let us commit ourselves again: to be people of hope, with hearts centered on the love of Christ—as individuals, as congregations, and as one charge.
Thank you for sharing the road. And thank you for putting up with your
twenty-first century Saddlebag Preacher—who, bless my soul, does not ride
an old four-legged paint horse named Blue, but drives a blue KIA toward wherever God calls next.
Pastor Rod
