Pine Ridge Presbyterian Church

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God's Stories, Our Stories - Blog by Becki Kish
by Becki Kish | August 27, 2021



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 Blog by Becki Kish

I was born and raised as a Presbyterian and even graduated from a Presbyterian College. I grew up in the small town of Herington, Kan-sas, and we attended The First Presbyterian Church there.


I was baptized in that church and married in that church. My children were baptized there. I even buried my first husband there. FPC He-rington was a big part of my life, and even though it is now closed, that church is still with me!
My parents used to say, “You get out of something what you put into it!” That was the way they lived their lives, especially their spiritual lives. They both were very active in the church. Dad was an Elder, and Mom was a Deacon. The church ladies put on a ham and bean supper every year which was a huge undertaking. My parents also were “Marines,” which was a couples’ organization. This group did whatever needed to be done for the church.


My whole family got out of the church what we put into it. FPC He-rington has been with me all my life. When we moved to Edwards-ville, Kansas, we attended the Shawnee Presbyterian Church, and we discovered the youth director’s grandparents had attended FPC He-rington. When my children went to grief counseling after their Dad died, the counselor was married to a woman who was from FPC Her-rington.
The first Sunday my children and I attended Pine Ridge Presbyterian Church, I met Marcia Gordon’s parents. They had attended FPC He-rington as well. I knew Marcia’s grandmother, Sable Darby, from that little church. It is like God has been directing my life through that small Herington church.


Now, my life is part of Pine Ridge Presbyterian Church, and I am getting out of Pine Ridge what I have been putting into it! I sing in the chancel choir, I play in the bell choir, I have served as a Deacon and I am a member of Many Hands. I have made many new friends that have helped me -- and are still helping me -- through life’s good times and hard times.


Every once in a while, when I really don’t feel like getting up to go to church, I hear my Dad say, “With all the Good Lord has given you . . . can’t you give him at least one hour a week?”