A legacy of service and community
Gay Lynn Wilson is a lifelong member of our church, whose roots here run deep. Growing up in Dripping Springs, she’s seen and shaped the church across generations, guided by her parents’ example of dedicated service. From Sunday school teaching to involvement with Women in Mission, she has continually enriched our community through her steadfast faith and commitment.
We moved here in 1968 when I was eight, and my sister was ten. My mom and dad were both schoolteachers. Back then, Dripping Springs was much smaller, and so was our church. Growing up here one of the big moments in the church that I remember to be part of as a little girl is when one of our members, Mr. Farley, would donate a goat, and we’d barbecue it to have cabrito on a Sunday. Whenever there was a special Sunday, we’d gather together, and one of those Sundays happened when we paid off the mortgage on that little church building. I don’t know how much the mortgage was, but I remember it being a big deal. Back then, everyone pitched in to help because we didn’t have much staff.
One time, we decided to organize a “fast-a-thon,” fasting for 24 hours to raise money to fight hunger. My sister and I invited all our friends because there weren’t many youth members at the time. So we had a 24-hour fast period in the church. The church just went along with it, and we all, of course, stayed up 24 hours. I’m not quite sure how we managed it, but we did! The church was always so supportive of our ideas and activities as youth. I felt a strong sense of family in the church. growing up in a small church. Growing up in a small church has greatly blessed my life.
I remember when we first started the church’s garage sale, which is quite a big thing now, but at the time, it was just a small event. Mrs. Hohman hosted it at her house on Highway 290, and we set everything up in her garage. I think we started it there because, at one point, we didn’t have a church building. We had sold the old church to fund the construction of a new one, and during that time, we worshiped in the high school cafeteria. So, maybe that’s why we started holding the garage sale at Ann’s house. Over the years, that little sale grew into the big “Women in Mission” garage sale, which has been such a blessing.
Back then, we only had a pastor and a part-time church secretary. The facilities weren’t perfect—our toilets and septic system weren’t in great condition, so often, members had to step in to clean up when things overflowed. It was just one of those regular things we dealt with as a small community.
My mom had an unsettled childhood, moving around often due to her dad’s work. But I think she found a deep sense of family and connection in church, and so did my dad. They both had a gift for commitment. Once they decided to be a member of a church or to give their lives to Christ, that was it. It was done, in every aspect of their life, from that point on.
Growing up, I was blessed to witness that unwavering commitment and be a part of a Christian upbringing that I took for granted because I thought that was the way everybody lived. Mom taught Sunday school—from when I was little until she physically couldn’t do it anymore. She even taught me Sunday school when I was a little girl.
Both my parents were active in every church activity. Their philosophy was simple: if something needed doing, you did it. Maybe you’d wait a little to see if someone else stepped in, but if not, you took on the task because it needed to be done. That’s just how they were about service. When my mom passed away, we wanted a phrase on her grave marker that captured who she and my dad were. We chose “They served the Lord with gladness,” because for them, serving was a joy. Even though they got tired like everyone else, they never seemed to resent the effort. It was just their way of life, and they did it with glad hearts. Their commitment was quite a witness to me, and seeing it as their child had a lasting impact.
Both of my kids were blessed to have my mom as their Sunday school teacher, just as I was. Even now, when I walk around the church, I see reminders of her—a book or a craft labeled in her handwriting. She taught first grade for years, and her handwriting was meticulous. Some old labels in the church kitchen are still in her script, and I smile when I see them. It feels like she’s still there with me.
We used to laugh about how, whenever Mom baked, we’d always have to ask, “Is this for the church or for us?” because there was a 50-50 chance those cookies were heading to the church instead of the family! Mom was also a big part of the Helping Hand ministry in our community, helping our neighbors who needed a little bit of help. I remember when she was in skilled nursing care, on oxygen, in her hospital bed, and she was still calling volunteers to make sure Helping Hand had people lined up for the following week. That was my parents’ kind of service—they gave with joy, wholeheartedly, for God.
For me, those are hard shoes to fill. I had to find my own way to serve God authentically. I’ve been a member of this church since I was ten years old, and while I’m certainly not the servant my mom was, I am deeply grateful for the many blessings God has given my family and me.
My husband, Trey, joined the church after we married, and he was the choir director here while we were still at the little church with Pastor Grady Rowe. That community has been an anchor for us.
Over the years, I’ve learned the true blessing of servanthood. It’s knowing I belong, that I’m part of something bigger than myself, and that what I do matters—not because of me, but because of what God does through me. I may never know the impact of my actions, but I trust that when I submit to God’s will and serve where He leads, my life has purpose. Today, people search for a sense of purpose and belonging, sometimes in all the wrong places. For me, the blessing of servanthood is knowing I’m part of God’s family, knowing that Jesus is the leader of who I am and all that I do, which helps me feel like I belong and that my life has meaning.
Growing up in this church has been an amazing blessing, but I didn’t always realize it. As a younger parent, going through parenthood and the rush of life, I sometimes missed seeing how profoundly God was working in my life through my relationship with Christ and my church family. Now, as I’m approaching retirement and Trey and I have more time to reflect, we can look back and see moments where God clearly carried us through tough times. We own a business, and there have been times we didn’t even know what to pray for, but God provided abundantly. Not that success is the ultimate goal, but it’s humbling to see how God has taken care of us, often in ways we never anticipated.
Now when I pray, I ask God to do His will because His will is always better than anything I could imagine. That’s my lesson later in life: God’s plan is always better. I try not to get in the way of what He has for my life and for others.
Being part of this church community, especially during high school, was a tremendous blessing. Over the years, I’ve been involved in various groups in the church, Bible studies, and women’s ministry. These experiences have allowed me to build deep, lasting relationships with others in the church. I’ve taught Sunday school, and I’ll tell you, those four-year-olds bring so much joy with their insights, sometimes hilarious and often profound. And though I don’t claim to be an exceptional servant, I am grateful for the friendships I’ve built and the groups I’ve been part of.
Currently, I’m on the trustees, working with people who genuinely care and know how to get things done. Throughout the years, I think I’ve served on every church committee. Being involved in the church at a deeper level has enriched my faith and church membership, giving me friends to share life’s biggest challenges and greatest joys.
For me, that’s one of the blessings of being part of this church is knowing you’re part of a community who will be with you in every season of life.
-Gay Lynn Wilson
