Church of the Holy Spirit is a fellowship of friends who love Jesus. Come experience God's love and power. We love Jesus. We love our neighbors. We make disciples that make disciples. We plant churches that plant churches. Founded 2000
We welcome you, your family, and absolutely everyone! We enjoy worshiping the Lord together on Sundays at 9:00 AM and 11:00AM. Adult Sunday school is at 10:15; youth Sunday school is concurrent with the two services. We also have a Healing Service on the first Saturday of every month beginning at 5 PM. We believe strongly in the ministry of small groups for mutual care, fellowship, prayer and discipleship in God's Word. As we love one another, we grow into the character of the Lord Jesus. We'll help you to discover your spiritual gifts and passion, and serve using them. As we love God and our neighbors, and make disciples who make disciples, God's Kingdom is breaking in! We are a "Three Streams, One River" church: Evangelical, Charismatic, and Sacramental.
Mission: We love Jesus. We love our neighbors. We make disciples that make disciples. We plant churches that plant churches.
Burn 24-7, a non-stop worship service, this Sat. July 20 from 5pm to 9pm at CHS
Church of the Holy Spirit's cover photo
Listen to Pastor Clancy's sermon, "Fathers, Train Your Children", Passage: Judges 2:7-16
holyspiritleesburg.org Pastor Clancy Nixon addresses a fathers role in a house hold.
Vacation Bible School
July 15 - July 19
In backyards in Sterling and Ashburn! Details to follow.
Read the Mid-Atlantic Messenger, the newsletter of the Diocese of the Mid-Atlantic.
mailchi.mp June 29, 2019 Church of the Resurrection Emporia, VirginiaJune 30, 2019 Church of the Redeemer Richmond, VAJuly 1-31, 2019 Vacation
For Father's Day, in honor of my dad, Clarence "Bud" Nixon Jr., I'm posting the Eulogy I wrote for him at his funeral in 2006.
Bud’s sense of humor was not politically correct, so neither will this story be. On the long road trips to Fenwick Island Delaware, sometimes we kids would get testy with each other after we had read all the Spider-man comic books in the back of the Country Squire station wagon. Dad would tell us to calm down, or else. Or else what? Somewhere near Denton, Maryland, on the Eastern Shore, was an institution with high fences topped with barbed wire, indelicately named “Hospital for the Criminally Insane.” The sign said it was in one mile ahead. Dad would say, “You better watch out, or I’ll leave you there.” Midge would say, “Bud, no it would be cruel,” in mock horror. Then he actually put his left blinker on, slowed down, and pulled into the turn lane! The first time he did this, we shrieked in horror, but he quickly pulled back onto the main road, snickering: Heh, heh, heh. He did the same thing every year. God help me, I did the same thing with my children on my trips to the beach.
For the longest time, Bud was unflappable. When I came home from college my sophomore year, college which my father paid in full so that I could study whatever my baby boomer, radical rejectionist heart desired, which at the time was Hegel and Marx. Sophomoric passions, I know. I announced to my father that I was no longer a liberal democrat, which for him was bad enough, but that now I was a Marxist. I swear, Bud did not flinch, or even raise an eyebrow. He said something like, “Hum! How about that. Tell me more, son.” If he ever worried that I would stay a Marxist for long, I don’t know - he never showed it. I don’t want you to worry, either – that phase lasted only five years! Bud had energy coming out of his ears; yet I never heard even a whisper of anxiety from him. He had this quiet confidence that everything would work out. I call it a kind of faith.
Linda, our special thanks and condolences go to you. We are so thankful for your great love and care for Bud. You were the perfect wife for Bud in these last years of his life. He often said that he could not have lived without you, and we believe it!
Bud had a disarming sense of humor. He was quick with a quip and a smile. He spoke with authority and with a twinkle in his eye. He would run on and on, about our ancestors and their plots of land, about tufted titmice, and even Portuguese oil tankers. He did this not just because he wanted to show off – though that was part of it – but also because he was genuinely curious about the world; he was a teacher; he wanted to share what he had learned. Bud taught me how to shoot a 28 over-under; how to split wood with an axe at Laurel Mountain; and how to take the bar exam – He said, “Son, move to Philadelphia, there won’t be any distractions there.” So I moved to Philadelphia to study, just like he did.
Gardening was a passion for him. He spoke often of how he had to get his fingernails dirty. His Zinnias billowed in swells from his place on Ewing Road. He challenged Grandma Dupre at Seven Springs to geranium growing contests. From her he learned that you never turn a geranium, but always leave it in the same position.
As I thought about Bud, it seemed to me that there may be a unifying theme to his life. How about this: Bud loved the things that were handed down to him. Like others from “the greatest generation,” it would have seemed to him an unnatural thing, an ungrateful thing, for Bud to reject the worldview and gifts of his fathers. He seemed old fashioned because he was old fashioned. Bud also loved his family, given to him by his parents, and managed to look after so many of us that I marvel at how he did it all. His compassion for people in some kind of need, for young lawyers and widows, lonely and poor, led him to treat so many people as family. [RAISE HAND] How many of you know what I’m talking about?
He loved his country, given by our forefathers, and gladly fought for her on distant shores. Amazing, but true, Bud loved the practice of law. Just as his father the Judge patiently taught him the mysteries of riparian law and title work, he mentored several grateful young lawyers with the love of a father.
Bud’s attention was often captured by wild creatures. As he drove down the highway, his eyes scanned the horizon, and he’d bend his neck, look straight up and shout as if it was an emergency, “Lookit the hawk!” Usually I could not see the majestic bird, but I did worry that his eyes were not on the road! Bud knew that only God could make a bird. The veteran of Anzio knew that there are no atheists in foxholes. Bud loved the God of his fathers, the Lord Jesus Christ. Bud understood on a deep level - he really got it - that all these blessings are gifts from an outrageously generous God, and that his own role was as steward and servant.
Bud gave us many gifts. One of the family’s fondest gifts was Fenwick Island. We never called it “the house at Fenwick”; we always called it Fenwick, as if we owned the whole island. We were so at home there, it felt like we did. Dad taught us how to body surf in the Atlantic. It was always a friendly competition to see who could ride the wave farthest, and he won almost every contest. He would beach himself like a great tan whale on the sand beyond the water. When we were little, my Dad would line up his three kids before breakfast on the deck and have us stand at attention and salute while he raised the Stars and Stripes and whistled “flag raising.” In the evening, he would whistle “flag lowering” as he lowered the flag alone. He had a way of making everyone feel secure, that as long as he was there, everything would be all right. That was how Bud communicated faith and trust. Even though Bud is gone, it is still true: everything will be all right. The old truths, the old faith, endures.
Today, someone is whistling taps for you, Dad. Soldier, husband, and father; lawyer, colleague, and boss; mentor, benefactor, and friend. You were all of that and more. Jesus told the story of three stewards who had been given 1, 3 or 5 talents. I think Bud was given five, and multiplied them. What Jesus said to that one long ago, and is on the cover of your bulletin, I believe the Lord says to Bud today: “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful with a few things. I will make you ruler over many things. Enter the joy of your Master’s house.” Amen.
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|Wednesday||10:00 - 16:00|
|Thursday||10:00 - 16:00|
|Friday||10:00 - 16:00|
|Sunday||08:30 - 14:00|
Kidstuf Live is where kids bring their parents to learn, a place where families connect with other families, a fun zany experience for the whole family.
We offer a warm, caring preschool program for children ages 2-5 from 9:00AM-12:00PM.
Mission trip dates are April 5 to April 14, 2017. Call CHS and ask for Pastor John 703 726 0777. Must be 13+ to go. Ask for rules. Total cost is $1,500.
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