The Lord's Call May Be different from One Person to Another
After Reunion on that Sunday, July 7, 2013, as all segments of the family were saying their last good-bys, Jeremy ask me, "Dad, I'd like to hear your story about your "Exhorters License." In November 1951, our family had been driving to Quanah, Texas to attend some of the services of a Revival Meeting at the Church of the Nazarene. The pastor and his family, the Calhouns, had been our friends for many years. The evangelist, Rev. Joe Norton, was pastor at the Ryan, Oklahoma Church of the Nazarene, when we first met him. Any time we could meet with any of them, it was like having a great reunion. There was a lot of coordnation that needed to happen for us to make the tirp. We had to get home from school, and or finish the days work, the do the evening chores. That meant bring up the cows, do the milking, have supper, clean up and get dressed., then drive the eight miles to Eldorado and cross the Red River to Quanah, thirteen more miles.
At the close of the Service that night, Brother Norton gave an opportunity for anyone to pray at the Altar Bench. I had already given my heart to Jesus in August, 1948. So I wasn't sure why the urge to pray, but went forward and soon felt a clear call to the Christian Ministry of Our Lord Jesus Christ.
When I was seven years old, I remember asking Mother, "How does a person know if he should become a preacher?" She suggested I ask Uncle Elbert. He was her second brother and just younger than she. I let it go, and never asked him.
There have been several preachers in the background of our family, but the closest I knew of in those years, (execpt Uncle Elbert) was Uncle Abe Tucker, Granny's brother-in-law. And that was before I was ever born. He preached a Revival Meeting at the Midway School in the Summer that Mother was 17. I don't know if she had been attending the services, but on a day of that week, as she swept the floor, the Holy Spirit spoke to her heart and whispered, "Why don't you let Me sweep the sin out of your heart, like you sweep out the dirt from the room?" She said, "At that moment I determined to go to the meeting that night and surrender my life to Him."
A few years ago Uncle Elbert with others and I were at Pallie and Darrell's for several days. He told some of his story. After Mother gave her heart to the Lord, she gently urged him to give his heart to the Lord. I don't remember when he did. What I do remember was this: In the summer of 1939 there had been another Revival Meeting at the Midway School. On Sunday night, after the last service of the Revival, the pastor announced that he didn't feel right about closing the meetings. He ask the men of the Congregation to come the next morning at 10am for prayer.
Uncle Elbert was at that service and told me about it. His birthday was June 26, 1920. Mother Shumaker had given him a new pocket watch for his birthday. He said, "I don't know how she ever had enough money to buy the watch." On Monday morning, following that call to prayer, Uncle Elbert was alone in the cotton patch west of their house chopping cotton. He stopped for a moment to rest and wondered about the time. He took out his new "watch that Mama gave me" and saw that it was 10:00am. He remembered the pastor's announcement and knew the men were there to pray. He said, "At that instant I heard the Lord call me to preach."
He argured that he couldn't preach. He said he would be a good Christian man. He promised to follow the Lord all his life. He offered to be the best tithing man in the congregation. He pled to be the greatest Sunday School Superintendent the place had ever seen. But for all his resisting of the call, the Lord wouldn't let him go. Finally, he gave up.
He couldn't read well. He always had trouble with math. He still had the twelth grade to attend that fall and finish in the spring. He didn't know how to preach or how to start. He didn't have any money and his family didn't have any either. From his point of view, it was a hopeless prospect. But he believed in God and believed in prayer. He began the pastorate of his first Church in 1943. He did retire after many years, but has continued to be called on for funerals, weddings, and pastoral supply. He has preached more than 500 funeral services and this summer had his 93 birthday.
Twenty-five years after that day in the cotton patch, he received a letter from Uncle Everett Davis. The letter said: "Elbert, I never told you, and wanted you to know. On that Monday morning in the Pastor's call to prayer, at 10:00am. I asked God to call you to preach." I don't know what his response was to Uncle Everett. I do know that when Uncle Everett and Aunt Pearl's son, A. Y. Davis, was lost in action during WW II, Uncle Elbert officiated when they held the Memorial Service at the High Point Methodist Church.
A rattlesnake struck Donnie about the middle of her calf on her left leg. I think that was May 18, 1948. After our Parents left taking her to Dr. Crow in Olustee, I lay with my face in the back of the couch and promised God, if He would save her life, I would give my life to him. He did and I did. The Methodist Church in Eldorado was having a Revival Meeting in August that year. Our family was attending most of the services that week. One night when the Evangelist gave the altar call, I responded. That night at age eleven, I went forward, knelt at the mourners bench and gave my heart and life to the Lord.
Brother Staught was Pastor of our Church at High Point. Soon after he came, he asked if anyone had been saved since the last pastor left and was in need of baptism. I raised my hand. There were others and I suppose the timing was a factor, because a group of older persons were baptized in a farm pond belonging to one of the Freeman's soon after that, about a mile east of the Church. I remember Midge Richie as one of the adult persons being baptized. Later in the summer, my cousin Milton Shumaker and I were baptized in Custer Freeman's farm pond.
After Brother Staught was transfered, Brother Ray Altaffer was our next pastor. It was during his pastorate that I received my call to preach. One Sunday morning, May 18, 1952, he called me to the front and from the side of the pulpit he gave to me An Exhorter's License. At age 15, I was now authorized to Exhort on the truths of the Word of God. There have been other licenseings along the way.
The long road from that day to this went by just one day at a time. Some times the day seemed to be as long as a year and some years have seemed to pass as quickly as a day. There have been days of sadness, but over all, I must say the whole journey has been filled with very rich gladness. I have not stood in the pulpit every Sunday, but I have been faithful to the calling of God to proclaim His word as opportunity afforded through these 61 years. And He has been my most faithful Shepherd, Heavenly Father and constantly abiding Holy Spirit. I give all praise to Him!
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
GOOD OLE SUMMER TIME
So Many Summer Activities
The Kids love going to Park West here in Oregon, Il and spending time in the Sprinkle Park. A couple or three months ago, Nana got us a puppy. We usually had a dog or more down on the river farm those many years past, but never had one in the house and never had to do anything about potty training animals. Boy, this is a new experience... for us all.
July 4 was the beginning of our Odd Year Family Reunion. The Boys, Sebastian age 8, and Leo age 6, and I drove over a day early, on Wednesday. Carlene, Joanna and Elizza, age 10, came over a day later because Carlene was playing in an orchestra for the Celebration of July 4 in Muscatine, Iowa.
About half the Family were attending the three day Reunion. Several of us were staying at the Country Inn Motel in Greenfield, Ind. We had our breakfast there, and a swim pool. We went for morning activities to Uncle Ray and Aunt Dianne's Heritage Summit Farm. About 10:30 each morning all the Kids who arrived went to the hen house and gathered eggs from the nests into the designated basket.
Lunch Time found us arriving at Aunt Rachel and Uncle Philip's house, of "A Romantic Porch" fame. About forty-five to fifty-two or three family members ate there each day. A large swim pool was placed on the back lawn and a very fun play set near the garage. There are almost a total of one-hundred in this Grand Daddy and Grand Mother Easley Family. So about half of us were in attendance.
Afternoon many of the group made their way by car back to the Farm for afternoon activities. Saturday the first picking of new green beans took place. And they were O So Good! Pulling weeds out to the rows of onions, checking up on the Okra plants, looking in on the huge Potato patch, discovering the first silks of the first ear of sweet corn was most significant. Uncle Ray even took a picture with his ever present phone. Skeet Shooting was a first at Reunion and very popular. The children who had never shot before, first had lessons with BB guns, then their opportunity on a larger gun. The whole experience was well and safely supervised by the Uncles and Older Cousins.
Thursday, First day of Reunion, our new and previously unknown Cousins, Brian and Tommie Easley came for a few hours. That was such a special time. We are so very grateful for the new addition to our growing family.
Breakfast was late or early at the Motel on Sunday morning. Everybody was packing and loading. So I think I went to the Breakfast room two or three times during the morning just to see who had arrived. Church Service was at 11:00 am. back at Aunt Rachel's. From the start they had erected a wonderful white tent over part of their driveway. So there were plenty of tables and chairs for all the meals and chatting. Meals were all prepared by the Aunts in the kitchen or by some Uncles on the out-door grill. The food was so wonderful and healthy. Many watermelons made their way into the back hall and up onto the big buffet.
We've always rotated the evening devotions and Sunday Message among the brothers and brothers-in-law. Uncle Elbert was our very special Guest Speaker a few years ago. This year it was my turn to give the Sunday morning message. A passage on my heart and mind for some time has been from John's Gospel chapters 13-16. For this occasion I chose John 15:12-17. I have felt that to be a strongly powerful message for the Church of this current age.
It seems that most of the family swiftly returned to their usual rut. A few have circled around a bit before the School Bell rings everybody back into line, at least by Labor Day, if not a week or two sooner. I had the joyful opportunity to fly away on Thur., July 18 for about six weeks with Lydia and Gabriel. Their two fine lasses, Gaia, age 7 and Carys, age 5, are training me in all things, Linguistic. What a joy!
I should be back in the States before you get all the summer used up. So we can plan on bringing in the Autumn together. God bless and keep you, everyone!
The Kids love going to Park West here in Oregon, Il and spending time in the Sprinkle Park. A couple or three months ago, Nana got us a puppy. We usually had a dog or more down on the river farm those many years past, but never had one in the house and never had to do anything about potty training animals. Boy, this is a new experience... for us all.
July 4 was the beginning of our Odd Year Family Reunion. The Boys, Sebastian age 8, and Leo age 6, and I drove over a day early, on Wednesday. Carlene, Joanna and Elizza, age 10, came over a day later because Carlene was playing in an orchestra for the Celebration of July 4 in Muscatine, Iowa.
About half the Family were attending the three day Reunion. Several of us were staying at the Country Inn Motel in Greenfield, Ind. We had our breakfast there, and a swim pool. We went for morning activities to Uncle Ray and Aunt Dianne's Heritage Summit Farm. About 10:30 each morning all the Kids who arrived went to the hen house and gathered eggs from the nests into the designated basket.
Lunch Time found us arriving at Aunt Rachel and Uncle Philip's house, of "A Romantic Porch" fame. About forty-five to fifty-two or three family members ate there each day. A large swim pool was placed on the back lawn and a very fun play set near the garage. There are almost a total of one-hundred in this Grand Daddy and Grand Mother Easley Family. So about half of us were in attendance.
Afternoon many of the group made their way by car back to the Farm for afternoon activities. Saturday the first picking of new green beans took place. And they were O So Good! Pulling weeds out to the rows of onions, checking up on the Okra plants, looking in on the huge Potato patch, discovering the first silks of the first ear of sweet corn was most significant. Uncle Ray even took a picture with his ever present phone. Skeet Shooting was a first at Reunion and very popular. The children who had never shot before, first had lessons with BB guns, then their opportunity on a larger gun. The whole experience was well and safely supervised by the Uncles and Older Cousins.
Thursday, First day of Reunion, our new and previously unknown Cousins, Brian and Tommie Easley came for a few hours. That was such a special time. We are so very grateful for the new addition to our growing family.
Breakfast was late or early at the Motel on Sunday morning. Everybody was packing and loading. So I think I went to the Breakfast room two or three times during the morning just to see who had arrived. Church Service was at 11:00 am. back at Aunt Rachel's. From the start they had erected a wonderful white tent over part of their driveway. So there were plenty of tables and chairs for all the meals and chatting. Meals were all prepared by the Aunts in the kitchen or by some Uncles on the out-door grill. The food was so wonderful and healthy. Many watermelons made their way into the back hall and up onto the big buffet.
We've always rotated the evening devotions and Sunday Message among the brothers and brothers-in-law. Uncle Elbert was our very special Guest Speaker a few years ago. This year it was my turn to give the Sunday morning message. A passage on my heart and mind for some time has been from John's Gospel chapters 13-16. For this occasion I chose John 15:12-17. I have felt that to be a strongly powerful message for the Church of this current age.
It seems that most of the family swiftly returned to their usual rut. A few have circled around a bit before the School Bell rings everybody back into line, at least by Labor Day, if not a week or two sooner. I had the joyful opportunity to fly away on Thur., July 18 for about six weeks with Lydia and Gabriel. Their two fine lasses, Gaia, age 7 and Carys, age 5, are training me in all things, Linguistic. What a joy!
I should be back in the States before you get all the summer used up. So we can plan on bringing in the Autumn together. God bless and keep you, everyone!
Friday, June 21, 2013
OOOPS
For Family, Friends and Followers
Sorry, I'm having computer problems... hope to be back on line after several more days ... or less.
Thanks for patience!!!
Carlton
I Hope This Is a Little More Certain Than Before
Well, finally we learned the mouse in the laptop has gone the way of all flesh. So today Joanna found the only mouse in Wal-Mart with a "tail" so I can plug it into the machine. It still does wonder around a bit, but not nearly so badly as before.
We've had the pleasure and joy of having both the boys, Sebastian and Leo, playing Little League this May and June. Leo was in T-Ball last year. That was lots of fun. But I think we have all gotten into the game even more this year. Over the years they have developed a talent in pitching and catching balls. So this summer it seems to have strengthened their ability.
It's fun to see them when sometimes they are batting one after the other and are then following each other around the bases. Last night our team was playing in the field and Leo caught a fly ball. That was a huge highlight for him as well as us. Probably larger for us because we never caught any fly balls. Sebastian's catching and trowing has greatly improved it the last week. There are two more games next week and the season will be over.
We are so pleased with the Kids desire and eagerness to attempt a challenges. Well, not always so eager. Leo plays piano, Sebastian on cello and Elizza is a sprinter and swimmer you don't want to race. They love Sunday School and are memorizing scripture verses.
Sorry, I'm having computer problems... hope to be back on line after several more days ... or less.
Thanks for patience!!!
Carlton
I Hope This Is a Little More Certain Than Before
Well, finally we learned the mouse in the laptop has gone the way of all flesh. So today Joanna found the only mouse in Wal-Mart with a "tail" so I can plug it into the machine. It still does wonder around a bit, but not nearly so badly as before.
We've had the pleasure and joy of having both the boys, Sebastian and Leo, playing Little League this May and June. Leo was in T-Ball last year. That was lots of fun. But I think we have all gotten into the game even more this year. Over the years they have developed a talent in pitching and catching balls. So this summer it seems to have strengthened their ability.
It's fun to see them when sometimes they are batting one after the other and are then following each other around the bases. Last night our team was playing in the field and Leo caught a fly ball. That was a huge highlight for him as well as us. Probably larger for us because we never caught any fly balls. Sebastian's catching and trowing has greatly improved it the last week. There are two more games next week and the season will be over.
We are so pleased with the Kids desire and eagerness to attempt a challenges. Well, not always so eager. Leo plays piano, Sebastian on cello and Elizza is a sprinter and swimmer you don't want to race. They love Sunday School and are memorizing scripture verses.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
KEITH AND OLE PETE
But Pete Doesn't Look So Old in This Picture
This is Keith. He's my oldest brother. He is twelve years younger than me. And this is Pete, our good and faith border collie. If you notice carefully, Keith has put a belt around Pete's neck and is still holding it in his hand as he sleeps.
Daddy and Uncle Lawton heard about this litter of border collies and went to see them. Lawton picked one right away. Daddy kept watching the puppies. He noticed one sitting off by himself in the enclosure with his bright eyes and intelligent face watching his fellow siblings running and tumbling all around. He said, "that's the one I'll take." That was Pete.
It was a wonderful day when Daddy brought "Ole Pete" home. It seems that Daddy always had a little dog or two around. When we first moved to Grandpa's place we had a couple of Rat Terriers. I remember a pile of old lumber and sheet metal on the east side of the "rock house." When they started picking up the rubble, those little dogs could smell the rats. They'd run in as soon as a board was being lifted and grab a rat! O my, how they would shake those rats, then drop it and go after the next ones. As we were getting to the bottom of the stack, Daddy lifted up a sheet of the metal roofing and a rattlesnake struck at him. Little did we know then, what lay ahead for us.
We did have a larger dog named Ted. His coat of hair was thick and seemed to stick out about an inch, all the way to the end of his tail. From today's perspective, I always think of him as a friend and protector for Donnie. She must have been about a year and a half or two. Then came Pete. He was a puppy when he came. But I don't remember him as a puppy. In my memory, he was my dog. When the cows were grazing in the winter wheat, he went with me to bring them in for milking at night. Someone told me I could train ole Pete to bring them home. The next day I sent him out to bring the cows. But, He didn't go!!! I had to go with him. That's when I learned, "it doesn't work." Of course, I had a lot to learn myself. When the cows were in the pasture, we never took ole Pete. We went on horse back or drove the donkeys to the wagon.
Sometime after this picture of Keith and Pete, our neighbor, Albert, told Daddy that Ole Pete had been eating eggs out of his chicken house. He wanted Daddy to shoot our dog! "SHOOT OUR OLE PETE?" That was beyond our sphere of imagination! Daddy didn't believe it. Albert insisted it was our good ole Pete. Daddy took him in the car and drove to Altus, OK. our county site. There near a nice looking farm house, 25 miles from home, Daddy put him out of the car. He said that was one of the hardest things he ever had to do.
After a couple months, Ole Pete came home. Albert was angry to see our dog back in our farm yard and on our porch. Once more Daddy took him away. This time when he went back to Altus he stopped by the sale barn. I think he didn't go into the barn, but with a leash or rope around Pete's neck, he walked around until he saw a kindly looking man. He told the guy of all Ole Pete's great attributes, and ask if he would like to have our dog. The man readily agreed. To have a great border Collie handed over free of charge was a totally unexpected gift.
Several more weeks passed by, our friends, Lou and Check Vessel came the 125 miles from their home in Ryan, Oklahoma to visit for the week-end. They brought a new black and white spotted puppy. We named him, "Spot." Keith was especially attached to him. Soon afterward Albert came down and told Daddy that he was sorry, but he had learned that the egg thief was not our ole Pete. It defiantly was a couple of dogs from the farm to the north of Albert. So Daddy went back to the sale barn the next sale day. I don't know how often he had to go before he met up with the farmer who had taken ole Pete. Daddy asked if he'd like to sell Pete to us. The response was a kind but emphatic NO! He said, "Pete is the best cattle and sheep dog I have ever had." There was no way he was about to give him back. Ole Pete's loss was a devastation for us all. That's like getting a piece of you ripped out.
A year or two later Daddy and Uncle Lawton traded farms so Daddy would have more freedom for answering God's call into the ministry. Ole Spot was the family dog by now and moved with us to the Drew Place, as we called it. That was only about a mile and a half from Eldorado.
This is Keith. He's my oldest brother. He is twelve years younger than me. And this is Pete, our good and faith border collie. If you notice carefully, Keith has put a belt around Pete's neck and is still holding it in his hand as he sleeps.
It was a wonderful day when Daddy brought "Ole Pete" home. It seems that Daddy always had a little dog or two around. When we first moved to Grandpa's place we had a couple of Rat Terriers. I remember a pile of old lumber and sheet metal on the east side of the "rock house." When they started picking up the rubble, those little dogs could smell the rats. They'd run in as soon as a board was being lifted and grab a rat! O my, how they would shake those rats, then drop it and go after the next ones. As we were getting to the bottom of the stack, Daddy lifted up a sheet of the metal roofing and a rattlesnake struck at him. Little did we know then, what lay ahead for us.
We did have a larger dog named Ted. His coat of hair was thick and seemed to stick out about an inch, all the way to the end of his tail. From today's perspective, I always think of him as a friend and protector for Donnie. She must have been about a year and a half or two. Then came Pete. He was a puppy when he came. But I don't remember him as a puppy. In my memory, he was my dog. When the cows were grazing in the winter wheat, he went with me to bring them in for milking at night. Someone told me I could train ole Pete to bring them home. The next day I sent him out to bring the cows. But, He didn't go!!! I had to go with him. That's when I learned, "it doesn't work." Of course, I had a lot to learn myself. When the cows were in the pasture, we never took ole Pete. We went on horse back or drove the donkeys to the wagon.
Sometime after this picture of Keith and Pete, our neighbor, Albert, told Daddy that Ole Pete had been eating eggs out of his chicken house. He wanted Daddy to shoot our dog! "SHOOT OUR OLE PETE?" That was beyond our sphere of imagination! Daddy didn't believe it. Albert insisted it was our good ole Pete. Daddy took him in the car and drove to Altus, OK. our county site. There near a nice looking farm house, 25 miles from home, Daddy put him out of the car. He said that was one of the hardest things he ever had to do.
After a couple months, Ole Pete came home. Albert was angry to see our dog back in our farm yard and on our porch. Once more Daddy took him away. This time when he went back to Altus he stopped by the sale barn. I think he didn't go into the barn, but with a leash or rope around Pete's neck, he walked around until he saw a kindly looking man. He told the guy of all Ole Pete's great attributes, and ask if he would like to have our dog. The man readily agreed. To have a great border Collie handed over free of charge was a totally unexpected gift.
Several more weeks passed by, our friends, Lou and Check Vessel came the 125 miles from their home in Ryan, Oklahoma to visit for the week-end. They brought a new black and white spotted puppy. We named him, "Spot." Keith was especially attached to him. Soon afterward Albert came down and told Daddy that he was sorry, but he had learned that the egg thief was not our ole Pete. It defiantly was a couple of dogs from the farm to the north of Albert. So Daddy went back to the sale barn the next sale day. I don't know how often he had to go before he met up with the farmer who had taken ole Pete. Daddy asked if he'd like to sell Pete to us. The response was a kind but emphatic NO! He said, "Pete is the best cattle and sheep dog I have ever had." There was no way he was about to give him back. Ole Pete's loss was a devastation for us all. That's like getting a piece of you ripped out.
A year or two later Daddy and Uncle Lawton traded farms so Daddy would have more freedom for answering God's call into the ministry. Ole Spot was the family dog by now and moved with us to the Drew Place, as we called it. That was only about a mile and a half from Eldorado.
Friday, May 31, 2013
MOTHERS
Every Body Has at Least One
At the visitation for Mother Shumaker, I happened to be standing by our Mother and Hattie White while we looked on her silent form. As they reminisced, Mother said, "I don't know how I ever could have made it without her. She helped in so many ways: sewing, canning and knowing the answers to all the questions." Then she suddenly realized, and said, "But, Hattie, you were the youngest of your six, three brothers and two other sisters. And you were only fifteen when your Mother died. How did you make it?" Hattie pointed down into the casket, and said, "I had her." That must have been about 31 years ago. And it brings tears to my eyes, even as I write this story now. It surely must be very ok to have more than one Mother!
After the Civil War, Grandma and Grandpa Luker were married and had the first two of their eight children, they joined their covered wagon to ten more and made a train of eleven covered wagons leaving Alabama for the great new state of Texas. They traveled west day after day, crossing out of their home state, and through Mississippi and Louisiana until they came to the River. It flows down the middle of Louisiana. They set up camp. They built a raft of fallen logs. On the day of crossing all was ready. Then by daylight they were loading the first wagon, family and whatever belonged to them onto the raft. They launched out into the waters of the river with cattle and horses in tow. As they rowed forward, they drifted down river. By the time they reached the west bank, they were about a mile down river. So then they had to tow the raft up river with horses far enough that the unloaded and empty raft could be guided to drift back to the waiting wagons at the camp site on the east bank. It took all day. The last wagon was unloading from the raft on the west bank of the Mighty Ole Miss in the moon light. Grandma said, "I'll never cross that river again, even if I never see my Mother." What sacrifices people sometimes make! The good part is that her Mother eventually made the trip to Texas and lived out her life with her family over there.
Our own Mother gave birth to eleven little babies. It was the fourth one of us who was still born. So we never got to know him, hug him, hold him, kiss him, rock him, play with him, or even name him. He is the one who has gone on to heaven, ahead of us all. I know that Mother and Daddy measured the time of his loss by comforting the parents in other homes who had experienced the untimely departure of one of their own. Once when I was home from College, I waited in the car for about an hour while they visited a couple who had recently dealt with such pain.
The angel warned Mary, mother of Jesus, that she would suffer much pain in her life time. God warned Eve that women would suffer pain in child bearing. I think many Mothers suffer lots more pain than that. During a revival meeting I preached at the Oregon, Illinois Church of the Nazarene, a gracious older lady came crying to me at the close of one of the services. She said, "I thought when I got my children all raised, that would be the end of my troubles." She and her husband had ten or eleven children. Years ago when their children were younger, their house caught fire in the night. Their oldest, thirteen year old son, died in the fire. When the Husband told me about it after forty or more years, his voice broke and tears ran down his face. She continued her story. Their oldest daughter and husband had been married thirty or thirty-five years. They had several grown children, five or six. Almost all those years they lived in south central Wisconsin. Late every Sunday afternoon he bid goodbyes to his wife and children. She manned up to the household chores and guided the kids through the thick and thin of life on the lot, in the school and through the summer. He came home after work every Friday. Saturday and part of Sunday were their hours together. The dear old Lady and old Man reported the sad story they had just learned the week I was there. The faithful laboring man brought money ever week so the wife, their daughter, would have no needs. Now, he had just confessed, he had been living with another woman and had raised another family with her. Should he be congratulated on being faithful to each, wife and woman? Should he be congratulated on raising all his children, on supplying enough income to support two families? O the awful pain, heart ache and deception that sin brings.
Our Great Grandmother (Bond) Shumaker was a girl of twelve years when her parents immigrated from England to the United States. They moved to Texas. There were ten children in all. Their Daddy's name was James Bond.
The girl, Our Great Grandmother, married Elbert Shumaker. They had several children, in two groups: George, Bessie, Johnny, (?) and then our Grand Daddy Shumaker, Ernest Albert, Uncle Bill, maybe Fannie Beth, Uncle Jim and Uncle Milton. Those four older ones were married and gone from the house by the time our Grand Daddy was thirteen years old. At that time Great Grandfather told Great Grandmother that he just could not give up his addiction to alcohol. So he wanted to leave home rather than be a bad example to those younger boys. He took all the cattle, drove them to market, sold them and left. Great Grandmother was a woman who loved God and attended Church with her family. There was a wonderful family in the Church who were best friends with Great Grandmother. The good family was an evangelist, Rev. Davis and his wife. They had six children. The oldest, a boy, Everett Davis was best friends with our Granddaddy, Ernest.
Ernest naturally became the man of the house. The Davis family gave encouragement and hope to Great Grandmother. Eventually Ernest met Liffa Mae Maberry at a Church social. He drove her to her home that night in his buggy. She said of the event, "The rest is history." Liffa's parents, we all called, Mama and Papa Berry. Papa Berry's occupation was, "trader." He made his living by trading: cattle for horses, or a team for an acreage, or a house for something else, a well made pocket knife for a one carat diamond ring. So they were often moving from one place to another. Roosevelt, Oklahoma was one destination, Another small farm was down the hill to the west of High Point, five or six miles east of Eldorado, Oklahoma. The Maberry's had five daughters and two little sons. The boys were younger than the girls. Chester, died at about two or three years of age. Homer lived to old age. Liffa, V., Alta, Dazie, and Lou were the five little girls. They all grew up to be remarkable Mothers. Sometime in the 30"s or 40"s Mama and Papa Berry moved to California. There he bought or started a Grocery Store. I think they ran it until they retired. Around that time, Aunt V. moved to California, also. Eventually Aunt Alta moved to South Texas and Aunt Dazie to Tuscon, Arizona. That left Aunt Lou (she lived to be 100 years old) and Mother Shumaker in Oklahoma. They all were outstanding women. Because I knew Mother Shumaker week after week for years on end I knew her to be a most phenominal woman! She is a story all her own.
Our Great Grandparents: Easleys and Lukers lived near each other in north central Texas. Both Great Grandma Easley and Great Grandma Luker were amazing women. Grandma Easley had seven sons and three daughter. Grandma Luker had four sons and four daughters. Easley's eldest son, Will married Annie, third daughter of the Luker's. Some years later Easley's sixth son, Frank, married Kate, Luker's youngest daughter.
There in brief, you have the seeds of our roots: Shumaker's, Maberry's, Luker's and Easley's. At least three of our four Great Grandfathers served in the Civil War. They married wives, raised families, traveled by foot, horse back, buggy, wagon, boat, train and car in their own life's time. All eight of our Great Grandparents were born by or just before the middle of the 1800's. Our Easley Grandparents: Frank and Kate (Luker) Easley were born in 1887. Our Shumaker Grandparents: Ernest and Liffa Mae (Maberry) Shumaker were born -- Ernest in 1889 and Liffa in 1891. Airplanes were first built in 1903. All eight of our Great Grandparents lived beyond that time in history. Great Grandma Luker died in 1918, our Daddy was
three. Great Grandma Easley, Great Grandpa Luker, Great Grandma and Grandpa Shumaker all died in the 1930's. Great Grandpa Easley died on Christmas Eve 1940. Papa and Mama Berry died in the 1940's.
The first of our Grandparents to die was Granddaddy Shumaker in 1958. He was 68 years old. Mother Shumaker was 91, Papa was almost 92 and Granny lived to 101 years and 4 months old. The amazing thing to me is that all our four Great Grandmothers and two Grandmothers lived to their old age. In the years of their times, it was not unusual for women to die early in their lives and sometimes to die in child birth. We are so very fortunate and grateful that so many of the Mothers in our family lived long and have highly impacted our own lives. Praise God for our Mothers: Mothers who pray and are such wonderful examples to our families.
God bless, favor, protect and guide our Mothers through all this present century or until Jesus comes!
At the visitation for Mother Shumaker, I happened to be standing by our Mother and Hattie White while we looked on her silent form. As they reminisced, Mother said, "I don't know how I ever could have made it without her. She helped in so many ways: sewing, canning and knowing the answers to all the questions." Then she suddenly realized, and said, "But, Hattie, you were the youngest of your six, three brothers and two other sisters. And you were only fifteen when your Mother died. How did you make it?" Hattie pointed down into the casket, and said, "I had her." That must have been about 31 years ago. And it brings tears to my eyes, even as I write this story now. It surely must be very ok to have more than one Mother!
After the Civil War, Grandma and Grandpa Luker were married and had the first two of their eight children, they joined their covered wagon to ten more and made a train of eleven covered wagons leaving Alabama for the great new state of Texas. They traveled west day after day, crossing out of their home state, and through Mississippi and Louisiana until they came to the River. It flows down the middle of Louisiana. They set up camp. They built a raft of fallen logs. On the day of crossing all was ready. Then by daylight they were loading the first wagon, family and whatever belonged to them onto the raft. They launched out into the waters of the river with cattle and horses in tow. As they rowed forward, they drifted down river. By the time they reached the west bank, they were about a mile down river. So then they had to tow the raft up river with horses far enough that the unloaded and empty raft could be guided to drift back to the waiting wagons at the camp site on the east bank. It took all day. The last wagon was unloading from the raft on the west bank of the Mighty Ole Miss in the moon light. Grandma said, "I'll never cross that river again, even if I never see my Mother." What sacrifices people sometimes make! The good part is that her Mother eventually made the trip to Texas and lived out her life with her family over there.
Our own Mother gave birth to eleven little babies. It was the fourth one of us who was still born. So we never got to know him, hug him, hold him, kiss him, rock him, play with him, or even name him. He is the one who has gone on to heaven, ahead of us all. I know that Mother and Daddy measured the time of his loss by comforting the parents in other homes who had experienced the untimely departure of one of their own. Once when I was home from College, I waited in the car for about an hour while they visited a couple who had recently dealt with such pain.
The angel warned Mary, mother of Jesus, that she would suffer much pain in her life time. God warned Eve that women would suffer pain in child bearing. I think many Mothers suffer lots more pain than that. During a revival meeting I preached at the Oregon, Illinois Church of the Nazarene, a gracious older lady came crying to me at the close of one of the services. She said, "I thought when I got my children all raised, that would be the end of my troubles." She and her husband had ten or eleven children. Years ago when their children were younger, their house caught fire in the night. Their oldest, thirteen year old son, died in the fire. When the Husband told me about it after forty or more years, his voice broke and tears ran down his face. She continued her story. Their oldest daughter and husband had been married thirty or thirty-five years. They had several grown children, five or six. Almost all those years they lived in south central Wisconsin. Late every Sunday afternoon he bid goodbyes to his wife and children. She manned up to the household chores and guided the kids through the thick and thin of life on the lot, in the school and through the summer. He came home after work every Friday. Saturday and part of Sunday were their hours together. The dear old Lady and old Man reported the sad story they had just learned the week I was there. The faithful laboring man brought money ever week so the wife, their daughter, would have no needs. Now, he had just confessed, he had been living with another woman and had raised another family with her. Should he be congratulated on being faithful to each, wife and woman? Should he be congratulated on raising all his children, on supplying enough income to support two families? O the awful pain, heart ache and deception that sin brings.
Our Great Grandmother (Bond) Shumaker was a girl of twelve years when her parents immigrated from England to the United States. They moved to Texas. There were ten children in all. Their Daddy's name was James Bond.
The girl, Our Great Grandmother, married Elbert Shumaker. They had several children, in two groups: George, Bessie, Johnny, (?) and then our Grand Daddy Shumaker, Ernest Albert, Uncle Bill, maybe Fannie Beth, Uncle Jim and Uncle Milton. Those four older ones were married and gone from the house by the time our Grand Daddy was thirteen years old. At that time Great Grandfather told Great Grandmother that he just could not give up his addiction to alcohol. So he wanted to leave home rather than be a bad example to those younger boys. He took all the cattle, drove them to market, sold them and left. Great Grandmother was a woman who loved God and attended Church with her family. There was a wonderful family in the Church who were best friends with Great Grandmother. The good family was an evangelist, Rev. Davis and his wife. They had six children. The oldest, a boy, Everett Davis was best friends with our Granddaddy, Ernest.
Ernest naturally became the man of the house. The Davis family gave encouragement and hope to Great Grandmother. Eventually Ernest met Liffa Mae Maberry at a Church social. He drove her to her home that night in his buggy. She said of the event, "The rest is history." Liffa's parents, we all called, Mama and Papa Berry. Papa Berry's occupation was, "trader." He made his living by trading: cattle for horses, or a team for an acreage, or a house for something else, a well made pocket knife for a one carat diamond ring. So they were often moving from one place to another. Roosevelt, Oklahoma was one destination, Another small farm was down the hill to the west of High Point, five or six miles east of Eldorado, Oklahoma. The Maberry's had five daughters and two little sons. The boys were younger than the girls. Chester, died at about two or three years of age. Homer lived to old age. Liffa, V., Alta, Dazie, and Lou were the five little girls. They all grew up to be remarkable Mothers. Sometime in the 30"s or 40"s Mama and Papa Berry moved to California. There he bought or started a Grocery Store. I think they ran it until they retired. Around that time, Aunt V. moved to California, also. Eventually Aunt Alta moved to South Texas and Aunt Dazie to Tuscon, Arizona. That left Aunt Lou (she lived to be 100 years old) and Mother Shumaker in Oklahoma. They all were outstanding women. Because I knew Mother Shumaker week after week for years on end I knew her to be a most phenominal woman! She is a story all her own.
Our Great Grandparents: Easleys and Lukers lived near each other in north central Texas. Both Great Grandma Easley and Great Grandma Luker were amazing women. Grandma Easley had seven sons and three daughter. Grandma Luker had four sons and four daughters. Easley's eldest son, Will married Annie, third daughter of the Luker's. Some years later Easley's sixth son, Frank, married Kate, Luker's youngest daughter.
There in brief, you have the seeds of our roots: Shumaker's, Maberry's, Luker's and Easley's. At least three of our four Great Grandfathers served in the Civil War. They married wives, raised families, traveled by foot, horse back, buggy, wagon, boat, train and car in their own life's time. All eight of our Great Grandparents were born by or just before the middle of the 1800's. Our Easley Grandparents: Frank and Kate (Luker) Easley were born in 1887. Our Shumaker Grandparents: Ernest and Liffa Mae (Maberry) Shumaker were born -- Ernest in 1889 and Liffa in 1891. Airplanes were first built in 1903. All eight of our Great Grandparents lived beyond that time in history. Great Grandma Luker died in 1918, our Daddy was
three. Great Grandma Easley, Great Grandpa Luker, Great Grandma and Grandpa Shumaker all died in the 1930's. Great Grandpa Easley died on Christmas Eve 1940. Papa and Mama Berry died in the 1940's.
The first of our Grandparents to die was Granddaddy Shumaker in 1958. He was 68 years old. Mother Shumaker was 91, Papa was almost 92 and Granny lived to 101 years and 4 months old. The amazing thing to me is that all our four Great Grandmothers and two Grandmothers lived to their old age. In the years of their times, it was not unusual for women to die early in their lives and sometimes to die in child birth. We are so very fortunate and grateful that so many of the Mothers in our family lived long and have highly impacted our own lives. Praise God for our Mothers: Mothers who pray and are such wonderful examples to our families.
God bless, favor, protect and guide our Mothers through all this present century or until Jesus comes!
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
A VISIT TO HERITAGE SUMMIT FARM
Four Days on an Indiana Farm
This is Memorial Day Week-End with Ray and Dianne on the farm at the west edge of Greenfield where the quiet and peaceful life flows by, largely unnoticed by the rushing world. We left home in Illinois at noon on Friday. Joanna drove. The Kids, E. S. and L. sat in their seats reading, writing or dozing. I sat with my right leg elevated on the right hand dashboard. I have no idea how many times I, myself, have driven that road (or parts of it ) from Oregon, Il. to Indy, Ind. during the past 37 years. And there were the trips from Red Oak, Ia. (and other Iowa towns) to Indy. beginning in 1961 for 15 years. During those 52 years we watched the slow but steady development of the Inter-state highway system crawl into being. Little country towns and very busy city streets gradually got bypassed and we joyfully hurdled over the countryside to reach our destinations hours ahead of the previous trips. This time I was the passenger, observing the pointy green spears of baby corn leaves reaching out of the dry earth. We had very few, but a few, pit stops and potty breaks. There was the excitement and anticipation of the planned stop for gondola sandwiches at Avantis in Bloomington-Normal. We ate on them the rest of the way.
It was a great feeling to unfold from our confinement onto the welcoming green lawns of Heritage Summit Farm to be greeted by the Farmer and his Wife, with Titus, the old golden pooch, who mostly warms the floors of the farm house these days. The fields are almost completely filled with seeds and growing plants. We put in the last of the okra seeds and the nine remaining rows of pop corn. Onions, potatoes, beans and strawberries had already been planted.
The Kids immediately fell into farm life, chasing the ducks and chickens. The hum of work emerging from the bee hives was a warm sound from seventy years ago. Bryan and Leslie with their children soon dropped by. That added to the movement of life in the yard. Cousins chasing cousins, playing ball, transplanting onion sets, scattering chicken feed, running races down the field road, riding in the trailer behind Uncle Ray's ford tractor and anticipating more cousins at Reunion in July.
Sunday Worship at Brandywine Church was a time of Memorial, of High School Graduation celebration, of lifting up hearts in worship and praise to the Almighty God whose love endures forever.
The Cheatham siblings had reunion during the week-end. Our brother Paul was able to come away and spend three or four hours with us at the farm on Sunday afternoon. So we were three of the five brothers. Our five sisters were all in their own places. For me it is always so rewarding when any of us are able to get together.
Now it is Monday morning. Soon we will be loading back into the van. Joanna will set the cruse control and point the front bumper toward Illinois. Dianne is filling the house with the smell of frying bacon. The Kids have gone out for their last forage around the farm grounds. It is a great day in the beautiful heart land of central Indiana.
This is Memorial Day Week-End with Ray and Dianne on the farm at the west edge of Greenfield where the quiet and peaceful life flows by, largely unnoticed by the rushing world. We left home in Illinois at noon on Friday. Joanna drove. The Kids, E. S. and L. sat in their seats reading, writing or dozing. I sat with my right leg elevated on the right hand dashboard. I have no idea how many times I, myself, have driven that road (or parts of it ) from Oregon, Il. to Indy, Ind. during the past 37 years. And there were the trips from Red Oak, Ia. (and other Iowa towns) to Indy. beginning in 1961 for 15 years. During those 52 years we watched the slow but steady development of the Inter-state highway system crawl into being. Little country towns and very busy city streets gradually got bypassed and we joyfully hurdled over the countryside to reach our destinations hours ahead of the previous trips. This time I was the passenger, observing the pointy green spears of baby corn leaves reaching out of the dry earth. We had very few, but a few, pit stops and potty breaks. There was the excitement and anticipation of the planned stop for gondola sandwiches at Avantis in Bloomington-Normal. We ate on them the rest of the way.
It was a great feeling to unfold from our confinement onto the welcoming green lawns of Heritage Summit Farm to be greeted by the Farmer and his Wife, with Titus, the old golden pooch, who mostly warms the floors of the farm house these days. The fields are almost completely filled with seeds and growing plants. We put in the last of the okra seeds and the nine remaining rows of pop corn. Onions, potatoes, beans and strawberries had already been planted.
The Kids immediately fell into farm life, chasing the ducks and chickens. The hum of work emerging from the bee hives was a warm sound from seventy years ago. Bryan and Leslie with their children soon dropped by. That added to the movement of life in the yard. Cousins chasing cousins, playing ball, transplanting onion sets, scattering chicken feed, running races down the field road, riding in the trailer behind Uncle Ray's ford tractor and anticipating more cousins at Reunion in July.
Sunday Worship at Brandywine Church was a time of Memorial, of High School Graduation celebration, of lifting up hearts in worship and praise to the Almighty God whose love endures forever.
The Cheatham siblings had reunion during the week-end. Our brother Paul was able to come away and spend three or four hours with us at the farm on Sunday afternoon. So we were three of the five brothers. Our five sisters were all in their own places. For me it is always so rewarding when any of us are able to get together.
Now it is Monday morning. Soon we will be loading back into the van. Joanna will set the cruse control and point the front bumper toward Illinois. Dianne is filling the house with the smell of frying bacon. The Kids have gone out for their last forage around the farm grounds. It is a great day in the beautiful heart land of central Indiana.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
FROM OUR COLLECTIVE MEMORIES MEN CALLED OR SENT BY GOD
From Earliest Times there Have Been Such Men and Women
Most of these stories I have taken from my own memories. There are stories taken from the memories of the ancients and our ancestors that bear remembering.
Goodness and badness, success and failure, victory and defeat have been featured in the cultures of all people through all of time. Sin and righteousness have been practiced through the ages of man. "Adam met Eve and they were the pair on the ground, not the fruit on the tree" that have caused our biggest problems. (This insight comes from our friend, Bill Sunnison, in a song he wrote.) Sin in the human heart is the problem and righteousness through Jesus Christ is the solution. Ancient history and the Bible gives us a lot of insight. More modern times continue to remind us of our sad and loveless societies.
Often it seems that worlds of men have forgotten or disregarded God as our Creator and hence the Biblical account of a world wide flood. Noah, a man God declared to be righteous, built The Arc for the saving of the human race. Job and Abraham were known as righteous men. Abraham and God had a conversation about Sodom and Gomorrah and those cities were the losers.
Through time prophets, priest and kings have been good or bad. Sometimes they started out to be good and became bad, sometimes the other way around.. But the call of The Almighty God of Ever- lasting love has continued to reach the hearts and minds of righteous seeking men and women. He has called to people through all the ages, but not many have given heed. There were the apostles who followed Jesus and many followed who weren't apostles.
The Church of the last 2,000 years has many names of remembered and forgotten believers who walked with God through good times and bad. Satan has been the ancient foe of the centuries. As in the case of Job, God has permitted the righteous ones to be tested, sometimes even to death. All the Apostles, except John died a martyrs death and the Romans tried to kill him but he outlived the trials and finally died of old age. In the generations following that first century AD. there were a plethora of evangelists crossing continents, mountains and seas to bring the Gospel to the masses. Christians in the Roman Army brought the Message to Great Brittan and from there we have the great story of Saint Patrick of Irland.
The early Waldensian movement, in 1170 AD, under the leadership of a Frenchman named, Peter Waldo, was one based on voluntary poverty as Jesus and his disciples did during Jesus' ministry. (The early Waldensian community did not call themselves Waldensians, but "The Poor of Lyons" or "The Poor of Christ" or just "The Poor".) Waldo, a successful and wealthy merchant in Lyons, France, sold all of his possessions and gave the proceeds away to the poor and advocated that his followers do the same. Waldo and his followers relied on donations and handouts collected while they were preaching.
So then laymen of the Church were being encouraged to evangelize their neighbors. They became known as the Waldensians. The Pope excommunicated them, but they continued to thrive in their way of life. In time they were forced to flee from their homes and seek shelter in hidden caves and cannons of the Alp Mountains. The Papal militia and the Italian army massacred them by the thousands over a period of at least 700 years. Finally in 1859 an English Captain took up their case with the King of Italy. The King gave them citizenship and built them a Church in the northwestern Italian City of Torino. They still live freely in their several villages. I have been pleased to visit their Church in the City and walk through one of their villages.
The Wesley brothers, John and Charles, are credited with bringing revival to Great Brittan in the 1700's that saved the nation from a revolution such as hit France. That revival spread to the Colonies in the preaching of Whitfield and Edwards. Later came such well known names as Finney, Moody, Sunday and Graham.
In the late 1800's and lapping into the early 1900's men and women of God, some remembered, many forgotten were praying, preaching and reaching out for a mighty spirit of revival. Our grandparents were children and youth during that era. There was a kind of "hot spot of holy hunger" in large parts of Texas. In west central Louisiana a farmer craved a revival of Christian religion to come upon his family and neighborhood. He sold his only milk cow for $20 and called an evangelist to come. He cut polls from the woods on his farm and built what was known as a brush arbor. Under it's protection from the weather he constructed benches for the people to occupy during the singing and preaching of the meeting. After two weeks of faithful singing, preaching and praying only one eight year old boy from the place had come forward to dedicated his life to Jesus Christ.
The farmers family were without milk for a long time and a new cow was almost a bank vault away. The neighborhood laughingstock marked the farmer as a fool. The eight year old boy held faithful to his devotion, he finished what ever schooling was available to him, then entered the young new Texas Holiness University where he grew in the graces of Christian manhood. His name was R. T. Having saved a little money, he looked for a way to invest it. His acquaintance, Will Easley, knew of a quarter section of land for sale near the north bank of Red River in western Oklahoma, newly become a state. R. T. Williams bought the property. A year or two later, one of Will Easley's younger brothers was looking to buy. In 1912, our grandparents, Kate and Frank Easley were the happy owners. There through the next half century or so, they raised their four children. We grand kids all grew up playing on the hills, hoeing cotton, combining wheat, shocking bundles, hauling hay bails, tying sheep's fleeces and stomping them into the eight foot bags for market, digging sweet potatoes, gathering other garden produce and helping plow or hoe Granny's yard.
R. T. Williams became in his early 30's a General Superintendent of the Global Church of the Nazarene and was an influential man of God throughout the remainder of his life. The old song says, "Little Is Much When God Is in It."
As a young woman before she and Papa were married, Granny was an accomplished organist. She was often called upon to pump the organ and play the music for Camp Meetings and Revival Meetings of their area, west and a little south of Dallas-Fort Worth, in such towns, cities, or rural settings as Dublin, Stephenville, De Leon, Comanche, Proctor, Rising Star, and many I don't recall at the moment.
Under the preaching of Evangelist like Bud Robinson, (J. E.) Threadgill, Jernigan, Abe Tucker and other Pastors and Evangelists the Holy Fires of Revival were rising up through out the State of Texas and spreading elsewhere. A famous Camp Meeting called the prominent Rev. Dr. H. C. Morrison, president of Asbury College in Wilmore, KY and publisher / editor of a Christian Magazine known through all the circles of that day, to Preach the Camp Meeting. It was largely attended and supported by Methodist Congregations and their pastors. The Bishop of the Conference sent spies to report on pastors and people who attended the Meetings. Since H. C. Morrison was known nationally, he left unscathed. But all the local pastors of Methodist Churches who had attended were removed from their pastorates and their licenses were taken away. Uncle Abe Tucker, Granny's brother-in-law, was among those.
But as always, the holy war could not put out the Holy Fire. Phineas Breeze began preaching as a young pastor for the Methodist in New York State. He soon was moving west. He pastored at Chariton, Iowa a year or two, and churches and chapels in Des Moines, Creston, Clarinda, Counsel Bluffs, in various orders. He arrived at Red Oak in late summer about 1873. About the first of October he announced a ten day revival which he preached, himself. Not much happened, so he continues on to make it two weeks. A few Sunday School children came to the altar for salvation. That spurred the meetings forward and some prominent folks of the community began to be saved. They then started praying in earnest for their families and their employs to be saved. By the beginning of March 1874 he brought the nightly preaching to a close. There had been not less than 300 people who were saved in the meetings. Large numbers of those joined in membership with the local Church and others joined other Churches of the community. Their numbers hugely outgrew the seating capacity of their building. They built a large new Church.
Eventually Bresee was pastoring Methodist Churches in Los Angelos. There came a riff because he was reaching out to the poor of the neighborhood. By 1895 he left Methodism to found the Church of the Nazarene, seeking to reach out to the poor families of the area. Rapidly this movement spread up the west coast and east ward to Chicago, New England and down the mid-Atlantic states. In 1907, East and West met in Chicago to form what was known for a few years as the Pentecostal Church of the Nazarene. The next year, 1908 the northern body met with Texas proponents of heart holiness to formerly establish the Pentecostal Church of the Nazarene at Pilot Point, Texas, (a town that no longer exists). Bresee died in 1915. I believe the name, Pentecostal, was dropped at the General Assembly of 1919.
A large contingent of godly men and women throughout the State of Texas had formed together from the late 1800's into various groups and eventually came as the Holiness Church of Christ to join with the northern body, the Pentecostal Church of the Nazarene in 1908.
In 1888 there came to a place a few miles from Tabor, Iowa a medical doctor / preacher named George Weavers and L. B. Worcester. They establish a Church known as Mt. Zion and referred to it as the mother church. By 1893 they had bought 40 acres near the southwest edge of Tabor. There they established a school, an orphanage, an orchard and gardens. The name of the organization was Hephzibah Faith Missionary Association. Many families went out from there to other settlements west of Tabor and into Nebraska and Kansas to set up farms and establish homes. But their enduring goal was to bring the story of the Gospel of Jesus Christ to whom ever they could. Where they went they built Churches and collected funds to send out missionaries from the school back in Tabor. The name Hephzibah is referenced in the Bible: 2 Kings 21:1 and Is. 62:4. It means "My Delight Is in Her." The Church and Mission sent out dozens of missionaries for 40 or 50 years to Japan, China, India and Africa. As their home Churches in America were unable to support all of them, they gradually merged with more established organizations on the field. After 1944 the workers in China united with the Wesleyan Methodist Church. In 1950 the Institutions in Tabor joined the Church of the Nazarene. I think that is the direction Missionaries Irvin and Fannie Dayhoff took, as well as their son, Rev. Paul Dayhoff and his family. Those were good folks we knew during our pastorate at Red Oak, Iowa, some 30 miles from Tabor. Also, Rev. Paul Worcester, who had retired from pastor of the Tabor Church, wrote a little volume on the history of the HFMA. Paul's wife was still running the Nursing Home, in place of the Orphanage. His son, Leonard and family lived there. Rev. Paul Mitchell was pastor of the Church and his wife was a school teacher in Glenwood.
The Church of the Nazarene in the State of Iowa is all one district. The district is divided into Zones. We at Red Oak were in the Tabor Zone. There were six Churches in that Zone. O my! What great fellowship. Every month for all those five years at Red Oak the Pastors and Wives of the six Churches met in each others homes for a meal together. The Pastors and Wives of the Churches in Red Oak did the same thing every other month. Those were the best years for close fellowship with the Men and Women of the Ministry during our 15 years in the State of Iowa. Not that we didn't have great fellowship every where we have lived. But there was just something about Tabor and Red Oak that stands out through all these years.
Now that I've come to the end, I think that I have not told it the way I had hoped. Let's remember what we can of the men and women, youth and even the children who have hungered and thirsted for the deep things of God. Some have been vilified, criticised, mistreated, some even killed and still have more often than not held tight to the loving and gentle hands of the Almighty God. Let us remember.
Most of these stories I have taken from my own memories. There are stories taken from the memories of the ancients and our ancestors that bear remembering.
Goodness and badness, success and failure, victory and defeat have been featured in the cultures of all people through all of time. Sin and righteousness have been practiced through the ages of man. "Adam met Eve and they were the pair on the ground, not the fruit on the tree" that have caused our biggest problems. (This insight comes from our friend, Bill Sunnison, in a song he wrote.) Sin in the human heart is the problem and righteousness through Jesus Christ is the solution. Ancient history and the Bible gives us a lot of insight. More modern times continue to remind us of our sad and loveless societies.
Often it seems that worlds of men have forgotten or disregarded God as our Creator and hence the Biblical account of a world wide flood. Noah, a man God declared to be righteous, built The Arc for the saving of the human race. Job and Abraham were known as righteous men. Abraham and God had a conversation about Sodom and Gomorrah and those cities were the losers.
Through time prophets, priest and kings have been good or bad. Sometimes they started out to be good and became bad, sometimes the other way around.. But the call of The Almighty God of Ever- lasting love has continued to reach the hearts and minds of righteous seeking men and women. He has called to people through all the ages, but not many have given heed. There were the apostles who followed Jesus and many followed who weren't apostles.
The Church of the last 2,000 years has many names of remembered and forgotten believers who walked with God through good times and bad. Satan has been the ancient foe of the centuries. As in the case of Job, God has permitted the righteous ones to be tested, sometimes even to death. All the Apostles, except John died a martyrs death and the Romans tried to kill him but he outlived the trials and finally died of old age. In the generations following that first century AD. there were a plethora of evangelists crossing continents, mountains and seas to bring the Gospel to the masses. Christians in the Roman Army brought the Message to Great Brittan and from there we have the great story of Saint Patrick of Irland.
The early Waldensian movement, in 1170 AD, under the leadership of a Frenchman named, Peter Waldo, was one based on voluntary poverty as Jesus and his disciples did during Jesus' ministry. (The early Waldensian community did not call themselves Waldensians, but "The Poor of Lyons" or "The Poor of Christ" or just "The Poor".) Waldo, a successful and wealthy merchant in Lyons, France, sold all of his possessions and gave the proceeds away to the poor and advocated that his followers do the same. Waldo and his followers relied on donations and handouts collected while they were preaching.
So then laymen of the Church were being encouraged to evangelize their neighbors. They became known as the Waldensians. The Pope excommunicated them, but they continued to thrive in their way of life. In time they were forced to flee from their homes and seek shelter in hidden caves and cannons of the Alp Mountains. The Papal militia and the Italian army massacred them by the thousands over a period of at least 700 years. Finally in 1859 an English Captain took up their case with the King of Italy. The King gave them citizenship and built them a Church in the northwestern Italian City of Torino. They still live freely in their several villages. I have been pleased to visit their Church in the City and walk through one of their villages.
The Wesley brothers, John and Charles, are credited with bringing revival to Great Brittan in the 1700's that saved the nation from a revolution such as hit France. That revival spread to the Colonies in the preaching of Whitfield and Edwards. Later came such well known names as Finney, Moody, Sunday and Graham.
In the late 1800's and lapping into the early 1900's men and women of God, some remembered, many forgotten were praying, preaching and reaching out for a mighty spirit of revival. Our grandparents were children and youth during that era. There was a kind of "hot spot of holy hunger" in large parts of Texas. In west central Louisiana a farmer craved a revival of Christian religion to come upon his family and neighborhood. He sold his only milk cow for $20 and called an evangelist to come. He cut polls from the woods on his farm and built what was known as a brush arbor. Under it's protection from the weather he constructed benches for the people to occupy during the singing and preaching of the meeting. After two weeks of faithful singing, preaching and praying only one eight year old boy from the place had come forward to dedicated his life to Jesus Christ.
The farmers family were without milk for a long time and a new cow was almost a bank vault away. The neighborhood laughingstock marked the farmer as a fool. The eight year old boy held faithful to his devotion, he finished what ever schooling was available to him, then entered the young new Texas Holiness University where he grew in the graces of Christian manhood. His name was R. T. Having saved a little money, he looked for a way to invest it. His acquaintance, Will Easley, knew of a quarter section of land for sale near the north bank of Red River in western Oklahoma, newly become a state. R. T. Williams bought the property. A year or two later, one of Will Easley's younger brothers was looking to buy. In 1912, our grandparents, Kate and Frank Easley were the happy owners. There through the next half century or so, they raised their four children. We grand kids all grew up playing on the hills, hoeing cotton, combining wheat, shocking bundles, hauling hay bails, tying sheep's fleeces and stomping them into the eight foot bags for market, digging sweet potatoes, gathering other garden produce and helping plow or hoe Granny's yard.
R. T. Williams became in his early 30's a General Superintendent of the Global Church of the Nazarene and was an influential man of God throughout the remainder of his life. The old song says, "Little Is Much When God Is in It."
As a young woman before she and Papa were married, Granny was an accomplished organist. She was often called upon to pump the organ and play the music for Camp Meetings and Revival Meetings of their area, west and a little south of Dallas-Fort Worth, in such towns, cities, or rural settings as Dublin, Stephenville, De Leon, Comanche, Proctor, Rising Star, and many I don't recall at the moment.
Under the preaching of Evangelist like Bud Robinson, (J. E.) Threadgill, Jernigan, Abe Tucker and other Pastors and Evangelists the Holy Fires of Revival were rising up through out the State of Texas and spreading elsewhere. A famous Camp Meeting called the prominent Rev. Dr. H. C. Morrison, president of Asbury College in Wilmore, KY and publisher / editor of a Christian Magazine known through all the circles of that day, to Preach the Camp Meeting. It was largely attended and supported by Methodist Congregations and their pastors. The Bishop of the Conference sent spies to report on pastors and people who attended the Meetings. Since H. C. Morrison was known nationally, he left unscathed. But all the local pastors of Methodist Churches who had attended were removed from their pastorates and their licenses were taken away. Uncle Abe Tucker, Granny's brother-in-law, was among those.
But as always, the holy war could not put out the Holy Fire. Phineas Breeze began preaching as a young pastor for the Methodist in New York State. He soon was moving west. He pastored at Chariton, Iowa a year or two, and churches and chapels in Des Moines, Creston, Clarinda, Counsel Bluffs, in various orders. He arrived at Red Oak in late summer about 1873. About the first of October he announced a ten day revival which he preached, himself. Not much happened, so he continues on to make it two weeks. A few Sunday School children came to the altar for salvation. That spurred the meetings forward and some prominent folks of the community began to be saved. They then started praying in earnest for their families and their employs to be saved. By the beginning of March 1874 he brought the nightly preaching to a close. There had been not less than 300 people who were saved in the meetings. Large numbers of those joined in membership with the local Church and others joined other Churches of the community. Their numbers hugely outgrew the seating capacity of their building. They built a large new Church.
Eventually Bresee was pastoring Methodist Churches in Los Angelos. There came a riff because he was reaching out to the poor of the neighborhood. By 1895 he left Methodism to found the Church of the Nazarene, seeking to reach out to the poor families of the area. Rapidly this movement spread up the west coast and east ward to Chicago, New England and down the mid-Atlantic states. In 1907, East and West met in Chicago to form what was known for a few years as the Pentecostal Church of the Nazarene. The next year, 1908 the northern body met with Texas proponents of heart holiness to formerly establish the Pentecostal Church of the Nazarene at Pilot Point, Texas, (a town that no longer exists). Bresee died in 1915. I believe the name, Pentecostal, was dropped at the General Assembly of 1919.
A large contingent of godly men and women throughout the State of Texas had formed together from the late 1800's into various groups and eventually came as the Holiness Church of Christ to join with the northern body, the Pentecostal Church of the Nazarene in 1908.
In 1888 there came to a place a few miles from Tabor, Iowa a medical doctor / preacher named George Weavers and L. B. Worcester. They establish a Church known as Mt. Zion and referred to it as the mother church. By 1893 they had bought 40 acres near the southwest edge of Tabor. There they established a school, an orphanage, an orchard and gardens. The name of the organization was Hephzibah Faith Missionary Association. Many families went out from there to other settlements west of Tabor and into Nebraska and Kansas to set up farms and establish homes. But their enduring goal was to bring the story of the Gospel of Jesus Christ to whom ever they could. Where they went they built Churches and collected funds to send out missionaries from the school back in Tabor. The name Hephzibah is referenced in the Bible: 2 Kings 21:1 and Is. 62:4. It means "My Delight Is in Her." The Church and Mission sent out dozens of missionaries for 40 or 50 years to Japan, China, India and Africa. As their home Churches in America were unable to support all of them, they gradually merged with more established organizations on the field. After 1944 the workers in China united with the Wesleyan Methodist Church. In 1950 the Institutions in Tabor joined the Church of the Nazarene. I think that is the direction Missionaries Irvin and Fannie Dayhoff took, as well as their son, Rev. Paul Dayhoff and his family. Those were good folks we knew during our pastorate at Red Oak, Iowa, some 30 miles from Tabor. Also, Rev. Paul Worcester, who had retired from pastor of the Tabor Church, wrote a little volume on the history of the HFMA. Paul's wife was still running the Nursing Home, in place of the Orphanage. His son, Leonard and family lived there. Rev. Paul Mitchell was pastor of the Church and his wife was a school teacher in Glenwood.
The Church of the Nazarene in the State of Iowa is all one district. The district is divided into Zones. We at Red Oak were in the Tabor Zone. There were six Churches in that Zone. O my! What great fellowship. Every month for all those five years at Red Oak the Pastors and Wives of the six Churches met in each others homes for a meal together. The Pastors and Wives of the Churches in Red Oak did the same thing every other month. Those were the best years for close fellowship with the Men and Women of the Ministry during our 15 years in the State of Iowa. Not that we didn't have great fellowship every where we have lived. But there was just something about Tabor and Red Oak that stands out through all these years.
Now that I've come to the end, I think that I have not told it the way I had hoped. Let's remember what we can of the men and women, youth and even the children who have hungered and thirsted for the deep things of God. Some have been vilified, criticised, mistreated, some even killed and still have more often than not held tight to the loving and gentle hands of the Almighty God. Let us remember.
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