FALL 2010

Tuesday Mornings
A Study of God’s Word
Led By: Silvia Kelly
Meets: 9:45 a.m., first and third Tuesdays at CRC Conference Room
Contact: Silvia at 304.329.3511 or silviakelly1@hotmail.com

Tuesday Evenings
A Study of God’s Word
Led By: Melanie Clemmer
Meets: 6:00 p.m., first and third Tuesdays at CRC Conference Room
Contact: Melanie at 304.266.2213 or starbuckmelanie@hotmail.com

A Study of Romans
Led By: Carla Weaver
Meets: 7:00 p.m. at CRC [first floor chapel] beginning October 12th
Contact: Carla at 304.376.0198 or weavec@gmail.com

Wednesday Evenings
Then and There, Here and Now: A Study on Revelation
by Beth Moore
Led By:  Juliana Riley
Meets: 6:30 p.m. at CRC [adult classrooms 1&2] – begins September 8th
Contact:  Juliana at rileyfamily92504@yahoo.com

Friday Mornings
Believing God
by Beth Moore
Led By: Karen Lane
Meets: Friday mornings, 9:30 a.m. at CRC
Contact: Karen at 304.594.3968 or kflane@juno.com

Friday Evenings
Women’s Movie Night
Meets: 2nd Friday of each month [beginning October 8]
Contact:  Cindy at crichardson@fairmontstate.edu

Saturday Mornings
Eyes2Read:  A Women’s Christian Book Club
Led By: Cindy Richardson
Meets: 11:00 a.m. to 12 p.m. the last Saturday of each month at Books-a-Million.
Contact:  Cindy at crichardson@fairmontstate.edu
Info. on current books at eyes2read.blogspot.com

MOPS stands for Mothers of Preschoolers. MOPS International exists to meet the needs of every mom – urban, suburban and rural moms, stay-at-home and working moms, teen, single and married moms – moms with different lifestyles who all share a similar desire to be the very best moms they can be!

Join us every first and third Thursday morning from 9:00 – 11:15 in the Chapel at Chestnut Ridge Church for breakfast, fellowship, and great resources in becoming better moms, together!  Childcare for all ages is provided.

MOPS on Facebook

by lauren byrer and trey dunham

You see, me I’m the life of the party.
My skin blotchy, my hair is flat, I gained another pound, and I?m gonna be 40 in like 13 years.

Last week I went out with Liz or was her name Anna? I don’t know, who cares.
People keep calling me Jen. My name’s Mona.

I can draw pretty much better than anyone I know.
I’ve never been good at math or science. I guess some people get brains.

Maybe I’ll try out for show choir oh I have no jazzhands.
I bet I could throw this football over that mountain.

People here are such hillbillies. I can’t wait to get out of this town.
I’ll never amount to anything.

Everybody wants to be me.
No one wants me.

I’m beautiful.
I’m ugly

I am pride.

by cameron king

The fire and I walk down the street
Together, one aware of the other and one pretending to be
Ignorant, one seeking opportunities and one
Deliberately unguarded, one in control and
One aggressively relinquishing the reigns.
There is a hum, a buzz of midday bustle in the city that
Wraps around, fostering a feeling of independence and
Invisibility; no one knows the fire is here, but it is,
In the sunny brightness, the warmth of the
Blacktop, air hot enough for blouses to dip low and skirts to
Stop short, displaying nearly more than the imagination
Requires, but less than the fire desires. The city is gone in a
Flash and all I see now are hindrances to my view of this
Flesh. Quietly I turn my head to look, and later I am
Frightened at the velocity with which my world changed;
Where did I go in that moment? Who was looking through my
Eyes? Yet presently my appetite isn’t satisfied, and I feast on
Food that does not nourish but only creates more
Hunger, hunger that burns away contentment with a constant
Craving for more, hollowing me out inside so that I am
Sick with guilt but not yet disgusted enough to shrink back in
Horror.
____________________

And when I finally do, when I
Let go and come back and continue down the sidewalk and
Smile at passersby, covering my shame with charisma for the
Crowds, I know in my core that the hot coals still
Glow, and that I will stoke them when I get the
Chance. Suddenly I remember the man I heard of who was
Charming, attractive, easy-going, who dated all those
Women who were never seen again, the serial killer who was the
First to bear that name, how in court he
Smiled and made it hard for us to believe he was the one, though the
Evidence was undeniable, evidence that pointed all the way
Back to a boy just past innocence who would lie
Quietly, alone, night-light pricking the darkness as his enlarged
Eyes meticulously observed glossy page after
Page. I think of that boy, the boy I know too well, and that man and
See the fire that consumed him, the ever-burning fire that never says
Enough! His fire blazed its way outside; my embers
Sizzle inwardly. Both leave behind excuse after excuse,
Excess after excess, ash after ash, ruin after ruin.
Who will rescue me from this body of death
The man and the fire walk down the street
Together.

by trey dunham

Do not neglect your gift. 1 Tim. 4:15

How long can I remain at a distance?
How long can I lay in silence, motionless
Lifeless, the world passing by?

I sprawl on my couch
Large and tired
My round, hairy belly yawns
From under the hem
Of my grease-stained shirt
Collar and pits yellowing
Spoiling under the dead
Weight of my life

Some days I can barely lift
My body from the shallows
Hollows carved out from the hours
Spent motionless
I have robbed myself
My meaty haunches
Spoiling in warm glow
Of incandescent lights
Flaccid arms linked and lifeless
Like pork sausages
Hanging from a butcher’s hook
Swelling with each passing hour
My eyes dimming
With the thought
Of anything but myself

____________

People said that Joe Mathis
Had all the potential in the world
Six-foot six, two thirty-five
Muscles turned tight
Torque up
Like some mad cat
Ready to pounce
Waiting for the right moment
That never came

The only trigger Joe ever pulled
Left a slug in the back
Of old man Kwon
Never saw it coming
All that potential
Thrown away for a pack of smokes
And a handful of lotto tickets

Coach just said all potential meant was
You ain’t done nothin’ yet
You ain’t made no difference in the world
What a waste

I betray all that lies
Innate, inert within me

____________

I am sloth
And I do not care
That the poor remain huddled, unfed
The cough of the sick
And weak echo around me
The tired circle finding
No place to stop
The lonely remain outside my door

I can hear from my couch
And turn a deaf ear
To the silent cry of a husband losing
His wife to another man
A mother, father losing their son
To whatever it was that takes him
And I barely care, barely notice
It does not matter
It will not move me

I am sloth

by susan crane kesey [11.30.03]

Your hand in mine, I feel it now-
With comfort and relief, I bow-
Acceptance of Your will has come.

A different way than others planned-
Or, even I could understand-
But, chords of peace you gently strum.

In the distance, the Lion roars-
I shudder, but squeeze your hand once more-
You are with me, come what may.

You know my name, You quietly call-
You lead through forest, and over the wall-
I follow Your voice through the fray.

Still trudging on with holy fear-
The Word of God ringing in my ear-
I feel you draw me close.

Again, the Lion roars, now near-
He strikes! –eliciting blood and tears-
I know you are hurt the most.

You take the blow with silent dread-
I gasp, then see my Savior dead!
The battle spells disaster.

With overweening glee and pride-
His victim lying by his side-
He claims my Lord and Master.

Then, resurrection before my eyes!
My Savior lives! –to fight, to rise
Above the prince of this world.

Death has no sting, the grave–no power,
O’er Jesus’ plan in this, His hour-
Divine glory–unfurled.

The Lion retreats, in anger, defeat-
Judgment and demise, soon to meet.
To the path again, my Lord drives.

Once more we travel, hand in hand.
I follow to His will and command.
Our destination, sure to arrive.

by susan crane kesey [2.10.85]

Many are the nights
When candles burn and thoughts are slow.
Yet persevering (for the love of Him),
Again, the dear saints go.

Pushing past their limits,
Fighting off the sighs and tears-
Clinging desperately to Scripture,
And the One who hovers near,

Needs seem to surround them,
Many faces sweet and frail-
Ever knocking for a word of hope,
Inspiring thought or tale.

When the well seems to run empty-
How on earth do they go on?
Where do His precious children
Find the strength to sing His song?

Only fellow pilgrims answer-
Because they alone can know:
The Spirit pours out living waters,
Stokes the embers of love’s glow.

Perhaps a word, perhaps a gesture,
Serves to build, caress and kiss-
The humble prayer to be His vessel,
To fulfill the soul’s one wish.

Ever grateful for His giving,
And for mercies always new- 1.
His servants pause and listen,
Then persist–His will to do.

1. Lamentations 3:22-23

SEVEN: pride, sloth, gluttony, lust, greed, envy and wrath. We all know them. We all have to deal with them.
____________________

POEMS: seven
Throught this series we have been reading original poetry that explores each of the “deadly” sins. We thought that you might enjoy reading them, so here they are:

1. PRIDE
2. SLOTH
3. LUST, GLUTTONY and GREED: the man and the fire
4. ENVY
5. WRATH
____________________

 

 1_PRIDE: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 2_SLOTH: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 3_LUST, GLUTTONY and GREED: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 4_ENVY: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 5_WRATH: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

by matt hogan

I hastened my bane
The poison in my vein
The pace, no one movin’

Healing You gave me
Elixer, remedy
Like serum, my aid

I stole in my pit
n the filth of it
An’ the foul theft

But what shall i be?
A hand offered me
Ah, i need freedom