Four Days at Mt. Gilboa

March 29, 2011


Part of the crowd that came to the after-service celebration tonight.
This sign pointed me in the right direction.
My first view of the building.
With Pastor Fred Miller.
The chocolate pie was terrific.
I set up the KBM display in the lobby.

Last Saturday afternoon I arrived in Campbellsville, Kentucky to preach at a short revival meeting for Pastor Fred Miller and the good folks at Mt. Gilboa Baptist Church. It was an unusual event for me since I rarely speak at revival meetings. I suppose I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve done that over the years.

I initially received the invitation when Fred Miller found the KBM website, checked out our material, and asked me to come to Mt. Gilboa three or four years ago. When I told him that my schedule was full and that I didn’t usually speak at revival meetings, that didn’t deter him in the least. Every few months he wrote and renewed the invitation. Finally last fall I felt the time had come to venture to central Kentucky for these special meetings.

I’m glad I did because I met some really fine folks at Mt. Gilboa. When I say that this is a country church, that understates the situation. To get there you drive north from Campbellsville through the rolling farmland, jog left to stay on Highway 527, go past Hunt’s Country store, cross the creek, come to a bend in the road where you see a sign reading “Mt. Gilboa Baptist Church” with an arrow pointing to the right. Then you ride the roller coaster over the hills, making sure to turn left on a blacktop road that winds through the fields, riding along the ridge line that felt like traveling through the Swiss countryside, until you come to what appears to be someone’s driveway, only it’s not so you take a hard right so you won’t drive into their living room, then down and up through the woods, past the open gate, around four or five more curves, passing almost no signs of civilization until you get to the fire tower, then you know it’s not far til Mt. Gilboa appears on top of the ridge. 

First you see the steeple, then the church cemetery, then the neatly-kept white building with a gravel parking lot. As I told the folks on Sunday morning, “No one comes here by accident. It’s hard enough to get here on purpose.” This little country church once served the people who arrived in horse and buggy. Today it’s a family church, with the most of the members being related somehow to the Hunt family. 

We met on Sunday afternoon at the chapel on the campus of Campbellsville University. Then back to the church on Monday and Tuesday nights. This evening we sang “Victory in Jesus” and a few other toe-tapping numbers. After I preached, we went to the basement for refreshments made by the women of the church. We had soft drinks, chicken puffs, ham sandwiches, and chocolate pie. What more could you ask for a Tuesday night?

When I stepped out of the church at 9 PM, it was so totally pitch black that I couldn’t find my car. That’s how far out in the country we were. But my heart was warmed by the generous hospitality of the folks at Mt. Gilboa and their faithful witness for Christ. I will treasure the hours I spent with Pastor Fred Miller who became my good friend. 

All in all, a very excellent four days at Mt. Gilboa. Now it’s time to go home. 

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