Daily Bread
Dad never had to take a vow of poverty when he went into the ministry. Preaching and poverty went together like cornbread and beans.
Born between the Great Depression and the attack on Pearl Harbor, dad lived his whole life close to the bone. His father was a welder who moved the family to Baltimore during WW2, finding work building Liberty Ships for the war effort. After the war, Grandpa and many like him, migrated north for manufacturing jobs that held promise of a more prosperous future. But sometimes such promises take generations to come to fruition. Dad sometimes told us the story of feeling poor as a kid because he never had store bought bread to eat, until the day he saw a classmate who only had lard to put on his sandwich. The lesson was clear; we might not have much, but you don't have to look far to find someone worse off.
Dad grew up, married, and took jobs to support his family. But as his family grew, so did his faith, creating a crossroads in his life.
When dad turned in his notice at work announcing plans to enter vocational ministry, his boss told him his kids would starve. At times it must have seemed that his boss might be right. There were times when our pantry was literally bare, but thanks to God's provision through the kindness of others, we never missed a meal. We always had a door to keep the wolf outside.
Dad was a quiet man of strong faith. How many men with a young family, working a good job in corporate America with all of its security and promise would willingly walk away into the uncertainty of the ministry? Especially to move his family to the deep south during the social upheaval of the civil rights movement, the Vietnam war protests, and the rise of the counter-culture? I am not sure I would have the guts and selflessness to heed such a call, but dad did.
He enrolled in Bible college in Chattanooga, TN in 1969. He found full time employment at Blue Cross/Blue Shield as a computer operator working third shift. When he got off work at 8AM, he drove to classes at Tennessee Temple University until the early afternoon. He then drove home to get some sleep before heading back to work at 11PM. That was his routine until he graduated in 1974. I cannot emphasize enough how foundational this time was in dad's life - as well as our family's.
For years I thought dad's call into ministry occurred in 1969. While helping mom downsize their house after dad's passing, I happened upon a paper dad must have written in high school. In it, students were tasked with writing about their planned occupation upon graduation. Dad wrote "The occupation I will pursue is not one that I would have willingly chosen for myself. I believe God has placed a call on my life to enter vocational ministry...". He went on to explain why he felt this call was right for him, to which his teacher wrote in the margin "this is commendable". That would have been around 1955.
Dad had humble and modest goals; to marry the love of his life. work a good job, and raise his family well. He never aspired to fame or fortune, and was never enslaved to either. He accomplished his goals and left a legacy of love, conviction and integrity.And I am still the little boy who tries to wear his fathers shoes, finding them larger than he can fill.
A few weeks ago dad completed his call after some 50 years in ministry. The subsequent weeks of navigating life without my father's physical presence have been a jumble of joy and sadness. I find solace in some of the old songs of our faith; songs that dad often sang as a soloist. I can still hear his voice when I recall some of those songs, even though Parkinson's stole his singing voice several years ago. "No One Ever Cared For Me, Like Jesus", "It Is Well With My Soul"are two that have been close to my mind of late.
But the lyrics to another song ring so true to the life and ministry of my father, that I feel compelled to share them here:
"Little Is Much, When God is In It"
There's a work for all to do
Hark! the Master's voice is calling
To the harvest calling you
And does the place you're called to labor
Seem so small and little known?
It is great if a God is in it
For He'll not forsake His own
Labor not for wealth or fame
There's a crown, and you can win it
If you go in Jesus' name
And our race on earth is run
He will say, if you've been faithful
"Welcome home, My child—well done!"
Labor not for wealth or fame
There's a crown, and you can win it
If you go in Jesus' name
Godspeed Dad - I miss you, but know that we will see you again someday. For now, I know you are enjoying reunions of family and friends in heaven, never more to be assaulted with pain, sickness, fear, or death. There's a crown, and you have won it.
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