Several miles off a North Dakota state highway, down a dirt road traveled only by farmers and ranchers, sits this church, long left to the prairie elements and wildlife. 
It first stirs inside me a feeling of adventure, of discovery. Other than the neighbors, scattered as wide as the rolling hills and buttes, who has laid eyes on this building, this testament of faith? Even the sight-seeing ghost-town hunter would likely never find this spot, completely unmarked except by the building itself.As I peer inside, questions greet me from every corner. What kind of merriment was had here? Weddings, certainly. Baptisms, potlucks, worship, of course. Likely funerals, too. Who were these people who prayed here and sang here? What became of the people who built it, with their weathered faces, rough hands and faith that could survive the prairie elements? Why did they leave, and where did they go?
At first, there seem to be no answers here. Only a tattered Christian flag, crosses on the walls, and broken windows are left of what was surely once a vibrant and useful church. Sadness at what has been lost begins to subdue me.But slowly the story -- patchy and lacking particulars -- begins to show itself.
The Spirit who stirs the perpetual prairie winds stirred the hearts of would-be pioneers to leave home and family for this vast and relentless place. He provided faith and food for their souls and bodies. He enabled them to construct a house of worship in a barren place, much like the Israelites in another strange and harsh land. And today, as the evidence of his care and their faith stands broken by the wind, I believe that He holds many of them in his hands.
Those who seek him will still find him here. His door will open as easily as the battered and broken door unsuccessfully latched with a length of rusty wire.
I leave, not with mere excitement, nor sadness, but with comfort. Comfort that when I am as broken and worn as this building, my God will be here still. Peace that my life will tell the story of His love and faithfulness, even after my body's usefulness is exhausted. I know that he who enables me now, will never abandon me. He will hold my soul forever.
