Last night was the 100th Anniversary banquet for Summerland Baptist Church. They packed 250 people in the gymnasium for a delicious dinner and a nice program, full of reflection and memories. I have only been attending the church for about three years, so it's amazing to hear about all of the history.

At the end of the evening there was a slide show. It began with images of the pioneers who started the church in 1905, then it went on to capture the tale of a church that's been around for a century. I was touched by photographs of so many smiling faces, through the decades. The hairstyles and fashion evolved, but people were always looking like they were a part of a loving family.

Eleven years ago the old church building was demolished and a new, much bigger, church was built in its place. When I saw pictures of men hammering nails into beams, and women painting walls as the church was being finished, the images looked so magical to me. With music playing in the background, I almost got a little teary at the thought of how much time and energy and love people have poured into this church, into the building and into the members. The pictures on the slide show looked like they held magical moments.

But I am sure that as the men were working in the heat of the Okanagan sun, nailing and sanding and framing, they did not feel like they were in a magical moment. They were probably sweaty and hot and tired, and just feeling like they were in the midst of a normal day. But that normal day is now a part of history, part of one of the chapters of the history of the church. And it made me think that even though each day for me feels like just another normal day, it is actually a part of history, and when I look back on pictures of my life and what I did, I will see that they were magical moments indeed.