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Medical Director: W.R. Oglesby, M.D.

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Grace Baptist Church has a transportation ministry to pick-up children and adults from surrounding communities, bring them to church Sunday mornings and return them to their homes after the morning services. A special van also transports Seniors to the Sunday and Wednesday Evening services and returns them to their homes immediately after the services.

There are five (5) bus or van routes for Children and one (1) van route for Seniors. Approximately 120 riders use this service each Sunday.

“And they brought young children to him, that he should touch them: and his disciples rebuked those that brought them.

But when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.

Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein.

And he took them up in his arms, put his hands upon them, and blessed them.” (Mark 10: 13-16)

Bro. Eddie

Sunday Morning Pick-Ups: 8:30-10:00 AM.

Sunday & Wednesday Evening Pick-Ups: 5:30 PM (Seniors only).

Sunday Morning Drop-Offs: Immediately after the morning services.

Sunday & Wednesday Evening Drop-Offs: Immediately after the evening services (Seniors only).

Route 1: Keith Cates, Amanda Cates & Van Bunch. Serving Conway, east of Union Pacific Railroad tracks.

Route 2: Frank Fason, Donnie Scroggins & Chris Franco. Serving Conway, west of Union Pacific Railroad tracks.

Route 3: Noah Green, Dee Ann Green & Darrin Gainer. Serving Mayflower and Lake Conway.

Route 4: Jon Barnard, Rebecca Flowers & Zack Cates. Serving Highway 64 East to 8-Mile Store.

Route 5: Marcus Royal, Angie Royal & Tim Griffin. Serving Highway 65 North, Greenbrier and Wooster.

Route 6: Toby Bane, Kevin McCoy, Robyn Richardson & Billy Stain. Serving the Senior Members in the area.

My son Gilbert was eight years old and had been in Cub scouts only a short time. During one of his meetings he was handed a sheet of paper, a block of wood, and four tires and was told to return home and give all to "dad".

That was not an easy task for Gilbert to do. Dad was not receptive to doing things with his son. But Gilbert tried. Dad read the paper and scoffed at the idea of making a pine wood derby car with his young, eager son. The block of wood remained untouched as the weeks passed.

Finally, mom stepped in to see if I could figure this all out. The project began. Having no carpentry skills, I decided it would be best if I simply read the directions and let Gilbert do the work. And he did. I read aloud the measurements, the rules of what we could do and what we couldn't do.

Within days his block of wood was turning into a pinewood derby car. A little lopsided, but looking great (at least through the eyes of mom). Gilbert had not seen any of the other kids cars and was feeling pretty proud of his "Blue Lightning"; the pride that comes with knowing you did something on your own.

Then the big night came. With his blue pinewood derby in his hand and pride in his heart we headed to the big race. Once there my little one's pride turned to humility. Gilbert's car was obviously the only car made entirely on his own. All the other cars were a father-son partnership, with cool paint jobs and sleek body styles made for speed.

A few of the boys giggled, as they looked at Gilbert's, lopsided, wobbly, unattractive vehicle. To add to the humility Gilbert was the only boy without a man at his side. A couple of the boys who were from single parent homes at least had an uncle or grandfather by their side; Gilbert had "mom".

As the race began, it was done in elimination fashion. You kept racing as long as you were the winner. One by one, the cars raced down the finely sanded ramp. Finally, it was between Gilbert and the sleekest, fastest looking car there. As the last race was about to begin, my wide-eyed, shy, eight-year-old asked if they could stop the race for a minute, because he wanted to pray. The race was stopped.

Gilbert hit his knees clutching his funny looking block of wood between his hands. With a wrinkled brow he set to converse with his Father. He prayed in earnest for a very long minute and a half. Then he stood, with a smile on his face, and announced, "Okay, I am ready."

As the crowd cheered, a boy named Tommy stood with his father. As their cars sped down the ramp, Gilbert stood with his Father, within his heart, and watched his block of wood wobble down the ramp, with surprisingly great speed, and rush over the finish line a fraction of a second before Tommy's car.

Gilbert leaped into the air with a loud "Thank you", as the crowd roared in approval. The Scoutmaster came up to Gilbert, with microphone in hand, and asked the obvious question. "So you prayed to win, huh, Gilbert?" To which my young son answered, "Oh, no sir. That wouldn't be fair to ask God to help you beat someone else. I just asked Him to make it so I don't cry when I lose."

Children seem to have wisdom far beyond us. Gilbert didn't ask God to let him win the race. He didn't ask God to fix the out come. Gilbert asked God to give him strength in the outcome. When Gilbert first saw the other cars he didn't cry out to God, "No fair, they had a father's help".

No, he went to his Father for strength. Perhaps we spend too much of our prayer time asking God to rig the race, to make us number one, or too much time asking God to remove us from the struggle, when we should be seeking God's strength to get through the struggle. He didn't pray to win, thus hurting someone else. He prayed for God to supply the grace to lose with dignity. Gilbert, by his stopping the race to speak to his Father also showed the crowd that he wasn't there without a "dad", but His Father was most definitely there with him. Yes, Gilbert walked away, a winner that night, with his Father at his side.

Author Unknown.