I believe that I am qualified for this scholarship because of how much I have grown at Wendell Baptist Church. It has helped me grow in my walk with God through missions and through serving. It has helped me appreciate the little things in life like the slides during services on sunday morning. Showing me that the little things like that do not just happen and some people put a lot of work into making them happen. Wendell Baptist Church has also shown me just how great my life is and how the problems I think I have are actually not that big of a deal in the long run. This was because of the not only the mission trip with Carolina Mission Team but also helping at the Kennedy Home and people less fortunate then I am. Responsibility is just another
Alabama Trip My mom and and dad told me in December that we were going to Gulf Shores, Alabama to visit my grandparents. Gulf Shores is the southernmost town in Alabama, located on the north coast of the Gulf of Mexico. I have been there twice when I was little. I remember that I collected seashells and went swimming with Boppa in the pool.
As I walk through the doors hundreds of memories flood into my mind as the smell of yesterday’s incense hits my nose. In a way I grew up here from baptism, first communion, to confirmation. Various friends and family scattered in the pews nodding to you as you enter the church since in a small town everyone knows everyone. The church is large and ornate for where it is placed; a little town of roughly 200 people. The inside is magnificent with intricately carved wooden pillars and elaborate paintings of Bible stories on the dome ceiling.
There are many reasons why I would like to earn a scholarship for Pensacola Children’s Chorus. I believe, and have been told, that I strongly expemplify most of the traits, if not all, that are desired in PCC scholarship winners. For one, I am known as a very positive and energetic person, and preforming is my passion. I am very happy doing it, even when I have to sing and dance for hours on end. I can’t imagine myself doing much else with my life than preforming, acting, singing, etc.
Now, the laid back southern life to me, is the way to go! No one is ever in a hurry it seems, just moseying along at their own tempo of life. Sitting back relaxing in the yard with family and friends talking about everything under the sky, laughing and cutting up with one another, having a cook-out or a late night bonfire enjoying the night air, sippin’ on some sweet tea, is what is special in my heart.
The community I grew up in central Texas celebrated my heritage, honored differences in culture, and fostered personal growth and self-discovery. My parents, with the strong work ethic they developed on their family’s farms in Ghana, encouraged my brother and me to work hard and find ways to use our skills to be of service to others, which wasn’t hard to do growing up in Austin with its many avenues to become involved and take care of the community, whether it was helping to direct families through the Trail of Lights at Zilker Park during the winter or raise money for educational programs for underprivileged kids in the area through working the concession stands at the University of Texas at Austin. It was this collaborative mindset that Austin
RIIINNNGG!! The buzzing alarm sounded at 6:30, and I frantically jumped out of bed eager to begin my first missions trip. I scurried down the stairs with my bags and jumped into the car en route to Eureka High School to meet the team I would be experiencing my journey with for the next week. When I arrived at the school, a few friends of mine were waiting, but most of the people I had never seen in my life. My heart started to pound against my chest as I suddenly became nervous, second guessing myself on deciding to come on the trip in the first place.
I grew up in inner city Baltimore Maryland. Neither of my parents were or are followers of Christ. They divorced when I was very young. I spent most of my life moving from place to place with my mother and two brothers. I gave up on high school when I failed my freshmen year.
Before I discuss my experience at Grace Lutheran Church I feel it would be beneficial to explain my Church Background, so that you can better understand my outsider view of the Sunday morning worship Service I attended. I have been raised in the Baptist/Southern Baptist church my entire life. My parents are from South Carolina, which is also where I grew up, so our idea of Church has always been a small community with a very relaxed atmosphere. I stopped attending the Baptists church when I was 16. I chose to join Bent-tree Bible Fellowship, a non-denominational church.
Growing up Christianity had always been part of my life and there was no question about it. My family was christian and the culture that my parents grew up in was heavily religious. However, I personally never had a true connection to Christ at a young age. To me church was the place I went to answer questions in Sunday School and win prizes for it, and that was how I saw it for a long time. It was hard for me to see it has more than that and from the outside I may have looked like the kid had a true connection with Christ by the way I talked in front of the church when my class presented, or the fact that I was able to answer most if not all the questions correctly.
Trinity Lutheran Church. Any day, any activity. I am a participant, a student, a leader, a pioneer. Sunday mornings are spent either worshipping with my family in Centennial Hall, a large gymnasium used for our contemporary services, or with other high schoolers, learning about life values and their connection to our faith. During this time, I listen.
Creating my own religion, this task does seem pretty fun. Well my religion would be very similar to the army and sports, it will contain structure, a need to compete/exercise, guidelines on how to treat others, and most of all it will be fun. There will be no reliance on a god/s, no prejudice against others and most of all, history will be made by each individual. And what I mean from that, yes there will be history but each person will be in charge of choosing their own paths in life. There will be no guidelines to follow (except to treat others kindly), just the freedom for one to create their own greatness.
“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.” I said as i dutifully made the sign of the cross and picked up my book of hymns. As the organist began playing, I stared at the large golden cross that hung above the altar, its metallic sheen contrasting with the deep green marble. I was baptized as a Catholic, attended a Catholic elementary school and high school, and attended church every Sunday with my family. I made my first reconciliation and received a small silver cross necklace with a tiny peridot in the center.
There I was in a hotel room with five of my friends in Spartanburg, South Carolina for a conference with our church youth. Leaning over on my knees, coughing out blood into a plastic bag, which happened to be the closest thing I could grab. At the time my mind didn 't even have time to process what had happened before I went blank and passed out. It was only the next morning when I saw the bag of blood at my feet, I had realized all of the bad choices I have made in my life. I grew up in a Christian family where it was believed that no matter what happens, it was because God wanted it to happen.
I believe that I should be awarded the Franklin County DHR Scholarship because I have shown how hard I have worked throughout my high school career. If I were to be lucky enough to be selected for this scholarship, I know I will continue to apply the same diligence and determination to my collegiate studies as I have to this point, making my education and future my top priority. Financially I need this scholarship to assist my family in paying for my college education. If I am lucky enough to receive this scholarship, it would greatly help ease the burden on my parents.
Have you ever sat in church wondering what the deacons were passing out to the audience? These little pieces of bread and tiny cups of wine. All the adults would take part in it, and if you didn’t understand what they were doing, you obviously weren’t old enough to take part in this meal. The sermonette that the pastor would preach this week was significantly shorter than every other week. The big white cloth that covered the silver containers with unleavened bread in them.