STRANGE ENCOUNTER chapter 139

Getting in and out of Tenth Avenue Church was a challenge as was parking. Most people parked on the street. With three other churches within one block of the church the streets were crowded on a Sunday morning. There was a small parking lot in the back of the church that was always full. There were five primary entrances; the front doors were the most direct into the sanctuary. They were located on the corner of Tenth Avenue and Ontario. The church had a long lobby running the width of the church. On the north side was stairs to the basement and an exit to the parking lot. That door was beside the kitchen.

One could exit along the south side and behind the platform and down the stairs. This was also the main entrance to the offices during the week. Because you could not see the street from the offices one had to buzz the office to be let into the church.

At the bottom of those stairs one could turn right to the center of the building, turn left again toward the “new addition” (the gym) which had exits on both sides of the building; one to the street and one to the parking lot. There was no primary way to leave and no clear place to greet people as they left the church. Many times the staff just left like everyone else.

The most unusual contact I made with a family and the one that led to consuming a great deal of my time and focus while at Tenth Avenue occurred at the top of the stairs behind the platform. I had been to my office and was about to go down stairs and meet up with my wife and children when a middle-aged couple stopped me to talk. Their greeting was direct and to the point. “Do you believe in demons?”

That caught me off guard. I actually had to think about that because I had no context to the question. Why were they asking? Was this some sort of test? What did they want to know?

I had heard several missionaries speak about demon possession during my years at Canadian Bible College. A professor talked about it in some class at Canadian Bible College and I had at least taken notes, but I had only one brief encounter with the issue while in Saskatoon, and I would consider it rather minor.

My contact was at a mid-week prayer meeting with the youth. It was an unusual night as only two kids showed up. We talked for a while and Bonnie Peters mentioned that her friend, the one she had with her at the prayer meeting, could not pray the name of Jesus. We sat and talked about that for a while. I had remembered that was one of the signs of demon possession or oppression. To be honest, I never had those two issues real clear in my mind until that night. Oppression can happen to believers while possession can only occur with non-believers. I was hesitant to identify what was happening as having anything to do with demons, but I ultimately did. Bonnie and I prayed that night that God would deliver her friend from the oppression blocking his prayers. Amazingly (at least a surprise to me), he was freed that night.

So standing in the hall behind the platform I tentatively said yes. I was then worried about where that was going to lead. They told me a story I had only heard told by missionaries.

They had a fifteen-year-old daughter whom they believed was demon possessed. I swallowed hard. Things moved in her bedroom without being touched. Stuff fell off of shelves of their own accord, curtains blew with the window closed, stuffed animals made noises and jumped from their displays. She could see demons in her room at night. They went on in great detail. It was not happening every night, but they were all frightened. They wanted help and they wanted it from me because I said that I believed in demons. What was God saying to me? What was He doing to me? I felt like Moses, “I cannot speak.” I genuinely had no idea what I could do. The entire issue was beyond me.

I agreed to meet with her and talk. Meanwhile I was going to call for help.

PLANNING TO ATTEND LIFE ’72 chapter 138

We decided to get a group and go to Green Lakes, Wisconsin for LIFE ’72. A plan was laid out to help as many kids as needed financial assistance to attend. We did not have a better plan, so we began to gear up to collect bottles and papers and do it for as many weekends as necessary. We needed trucks and trailers to go with the various groups who would be knocking on doors to ask (read beg) for any bottles or newspapers they might be willing to give.

Fortunately those were still the days when people would open their doors, listen to the kids and help. We explained to the people what we were raising money for and what we needed. Strangely, there were occasions when we were even given money. We never expected that. We had a simple system that rewarded people who actually helped with the collecting process. It was all related to hours spent on the job. We were determined that enough would be made to pay the complete way of everyone that wanted the help. I think someone tried to figure out how many bottles that would require. I have no idea, but it was many truck and trailer loads.

There was a lady at the church who knew the owners of the Seven Seas restaurant and made an arrangement for us to pick up their empty bottle each week. It was a good stop for us as it always filled a trailer. The restaurant was a bit of a surprise to some of the crew. How could they sell so much liquor in one week that we could fill a trailer every week? Then there was the smell. None were used to that. There were some times we made two trips. At the Seven Seas we made our pick up on Monday after school, We drove directly from the restaurant to the location on Boundary Road where we sold the bottles, smelly, but a good haul for us. One helper commented that we were making a pile of money off the drunks. It was funny at the time. Maybe you had to be there.

We also had a box set up in the back parking lot at the church for people to bring their papers and bottles. We had to take the papers for sale during the week. That meant we had to store them over the weekend. They were stored at the Drewlo apartment building. One Saturday as Ken Remple was helping the gang pickup papers he lost his load and tied up traffic. Not funny at the time, but later…

I had a hitch put on my white ’68 Dodge Polaris and drove the streets every week. Ken was a gift from God. He drove a great deal of the time. Others pitched in from time to time. We mapped out the city and never went back to the same area twice. Each Saturday was a two to three hour shift. Another crew helped with the Seven Seas bottle pickup during the week and yet another crew took the items from the church to sell. I appreciated the men who helped in this project with their time and vehicles.

Dale Klassen wrote, “Paper Drives, I think some of the adult volunteers, meaning those who would subject their vehicles to wear and tear were Ken Remple, Peter Geisbrecht and Amroyd Holmlund. Some of the youth participants were Rick Remple, Greg Neufeld, Gord Jarvis, Ron Hoskyn, and Debbie Hallam (who took offence when collecting at one of the thousands of doors we knocked and she was called a boy). During the times of the paper/bottle drives my brother Jim and I would work all Friday night as janitors at Simon Frasier University mainly cleaning the pub, get off work at 7:30 am and then go on the paper drives.” And these two guys were there every week.

I wrote a news sheet every week or two updating what was happening in regards to the upcoming Life Conference, and reporting who had volunteered that week, the hours they worked and the money they were earning. I wanted to encourage others to join us on the weekends.

It really was an amazing experience. We earned enough to help everyone who needed help, paid the full Greyhound bus rental for everyone and had enough money to buy a few meals on the trip there and back. We also bought everyone a sailor hat. It was our connection to a port city and a way to keep the group connected in the crowd of nearly 5000 teens who attend LIFE ’72.

We earned this all pennies at a time. Hard work, but a great bond.

A FEW THOUGHTS chapter 137

I fully expected to find an active Bible quiz team in Vancouver. After all, I had competed against them for the past three years in Regina and at Internationals. Same girls, same coach! But they were nowhere to be found. I asked around and could not find anyone who knew who they were. Some remembered there had been a quiz team, but nothing more. They did not appear in the church records. I could not figure that out at all.

Not the Vancouver CSB guys

What I did find was a very active Christian Service Brigade with a group of guys as excited about floor hockey as anywhere else in Canada. It had to be the indoor equivalent to that grand Canadian sport — hockey. Ron Hoskyn was the sergeant, and Gord Jarvie was one of the corporals. Tenth had a great gym and plenty of room to play. The guys got very thirsty scrambling around for that puck so we rewarded the top squad; the one would with the most achievements, shares, and best behavior with a coke at the end of the night. That was a huge motivator; of course only one squad would win which meant most would go home dehydrated. Well, there was water. I think we got the pop form Bob Remple who worked for coke.

I did not teach a Sunday school class regularly, but often filled in for one adult class. I remember an on going conflict over a comment Ken Sugarman made one morning. Ken was an offensive lineman for the BC Lions (CFL) who I saw as living his faith in the real world. He was not living in the protected and rarefied world of isolated Christians. He casually mentioned that he usually went with teammates after a game to a bar to wind down. He did not drink, but he enjoyed being with the guys and did not want to be standoffish. I could not believe the reaction. He was jumped on for going to a bar. Jesus ate with publicans and sinners, what was the problem? Jesus turned water into a wine, what was the problem? Also, and I did not want to bring it up so didn’t, but the word was that pastor Brooks attended the wedding of a prominent members daughter and got into the wrong punch bowl. One was spiked and one was not. No, I did not hear if he was tipsy. I heard it from several sources but who knows the truth.

I jumped to his defense and as gently as possible attempted to get the class to see that Ken was being salt and light. He was doing the right thing. A few came around, but many were not so sure a Christian ought to ever be found in a bar. I understood their perceptions as I grew up in that same environment but wanted them to see a much larger world, a world where believers mixed and reached out to their friends and neighbors. It was no secret that several church attendees were drinkers, why come down so hard on a man trying to witness to his teammates. Was it because he was a prominent member of the community?

Ken and I were only acquaintances, but I admired him for how he lived. When I did leave the church and received a farewell love offering, more than 50% of that gift came from Ken. Who gave what was to be a secret, but Kay sent me a list of who gave what so we could send thank you notes. Subtly, she also wanted me to know who gave nothing because of a great deal of hoopla from one person who promised what he did not deliver. Della and I only laughed. We were not surprised at all.

There was a sliding glass window between my office and the secretarial office. Pastor Brooks was the only pastor in the Canadian Alliance still on a love office salary basis. He had no fixed salary and what he received did not go through the church books. No one really knew what he was making. While that was how all pastors were paid in the early days of the C&MA in Canada, those days were over, except here. There was a person who came every week to open offering envelopes and remove the money marked “pastor” They sat on the other side of the window from my desk facing my office. I could not see what was being done without standing up, but I could hear them talking to themselves. I had ideas, but never knew for sure.

ADJUSTING chapter 136

It took some time to get used to commuting, but I did. The board decided that we would move to the house in Vancouver near Boundary Road on the boarder of Burnaby in a place called Champlain Heights. It would be a straight shot down Kingsway and not nearly as far. But that was about four months off.

I often had lunch with Al. If we went out is was usually to Captain Cooks or White Spot. When we brought a lunch we would eat in the kitchen with Bert and Kay. Mr. Brooks always went home when he did not have a luncheon appointment. Al and I had those as well, but most people did not work downtown.

The Port Coquitlam house. We usually entered the
house from the back where there was room to park
and stairs to climb.

Della became more relaxed about our borrowed home and began inviting people for Sunday dinner like we had always done in our first church. We would get to know people this way and it was easier to have them to our place than take two small children to their home. Della was an incredible cook and hostess. Meals were always terrific, so it was a surprise when we arrived home one Sunday with guests in tow and the smell of roast beef in the oven did not enter our noses as we opened the door. Della was in a panic and rushed up stairs to see what was wrong leaving two children at the bottom of the stairs with me trying to figure out what was wrong. The timer did not start the oven. After turning some burners on she realized we did not have a stove. We checked everything, the plugs, the breaker. The stove was dead. There was no meal ready and we were not going to be cooking anything that day. Worse yet for my wife the hostess, we had nothing to serve. I told her to greet our guests and I rushed out to Kentucky Fried Chicken for a meal in a bucket. It wasn’t what she wanted, but it filled the bill. To top it off, Rodney said he liked it. He never said he liked the roast beef. He got to hold the chicken leg in his hands. Fun!

We did have trouble with Rodney at church within our first month there. As we headed to his Sunday school class one morning, he announced in very strong terms that he did not want to go. Oh great, what now? He could put up a fight when we wanted too. We were headed to a temper tantrum. One of the teachers met us at the door and put it in perspective. Apparently another little boy bit him the Sunday before. For him, going to church meant he was going to be bitten. While we wished we have known that the week before so some preparation would have been worked on, Della decided to stay with him and “protect him.” It never happened again and he and the boy became playmates.

Wednesday night was prayer meeting and everyone met together and then broke up into smaller prayer groups. I met with the youth. I had a consistent group of 4-6. Usually in attendance were Heidi, Paul McConnell, Jim and Dale Klassen, and some others from time to time. I thought youth group was going to be tough to get a group together. We usually met at the church but eventually began meeting in a few different homes. I guess if you lived in the greater Vancouver area you took travel for granted.

I began working promoting LIFE conference in Green Lakes, Wisconsin. I knew it might be hard sell. It was the following summer and we began picking away at it ten months in advance. I didn’t know what the plan was yet, but it was clear several of the group were going to need financial help. A few expressed interest and we talked with them about fund raising possibilities. I don’t remember who suggested it, but collecting bottles and newspapers to sell, came up. While it was a good idea, it would be a pile of work. Pop bottles were 2ç each other bottles were 2¢ and paper — I don’t remember what they were paying. Maybe $5-$7 a ton It wasn’t much. This would take time. Not just the kid’s time, but mine. When would we do this, where would we do this, who would do it and how would we figure out what kind of help each kid would get? I needed to think about that idea and talk it over with Della. She would be part of my decision making process.

All other bottles 2¢

Pop bottles were sold for 2¢ each

Paper sold by the ton, but where would we store it until we got a ton?

WEEK ONE chapter 135

My office was a windowless little hole between the secretaries’ office and the pastor’s office right behind the sanctuary platform. My Saskatoon office did not have a window either, I reminded myself. I did not go in until Friday. I wanted to get my books set up and look like I was going to stay, although I’m not sure why. I figured my permanence was still up for discussion. I was there only half the day, as Della really needed help at the house.

We had another Sunday before we were to be introduced, but we decided to go to church on Sunday and try to be observers. We checked our son into a preschool program and our daughter in the nursery and went off to an adult Sunday school class that did not have a teacher. Mr. Neufeld, the Sunday school superintendent came in and explained the situation. I told him I would like to use the time to get to know some of these people. So we just talked. We made wonderful friends that morning. Mr. Neufeld also set an appointment to meet with me that week.

The service was fine, the choir was terrific and even when we mentioned our names it meant nothing to most people, except a family named Klassen. They had recently moved from Regina and at least knew about me. They wanted to know if I had eome to replace Bill Goetz. No one could replace Bill Goetz, but I was here to pick up some slack. I said hi to their boys, Jim and Dale. I liked them and began to pray right then for their support. I just believed it would be easier if I could work with some kids who knew how a youth group ought to operate. They came from a good one in Regina. I did not even know hoe it would work in Vancouver. Families seemed to live so far away.

We went back to the house and it smelled like our house did nearly every Sunday. Della had a roast in the oven and quickly fixed up the rest of the meal and we later napped like we were back in the saddle and wiped out. I knew this was going to be hard on Della. She was used to me coming home at lunch and supper. If there were an evening meeting, I would not be going home. So some days might I be gone be gone 10-12 hours. This worried me a great deal. I was still a young married man only recently trying to build my marriage the right way. I could not abandon the woman I loved. We had to work this out.

I met with several leaders of different organizations the next week. The most profitable was Mr. Neufeld. We connected very well. He told me how many teachers were needed and that we would be need them on Sunday. Should he or I call them and try to talk them into coming back to their positions? No, neither of us would to call to beg anyone to come and teach. If God had not called them we did not want them. He liked that idea, but he was unsure it would work. While I believed in prayer, I wasn’t so sure myself

There were several teaching holes that Sunday and we just combined classes. I had a few calls from teachers telling me flatly that they would not be returning and there was nothing I could say to get them to come back. I told them I had no intention of “talking them into teaching.” I wanted people called to teach. While, shocked, most were thrilled. Others followed suit and walked out as they learned of the new approach. I thought I was going to lose Mr. Neufeld but he believed in the plan to simply pray and ask God to give us gifted and willing teachers. Je did not want to abandon me. I loved him for that.

I explained our need simply and unemotionally the Sunday Della and I were introduced and God filled many of the positions by the next Sunday. Some who had told me flatly that they were done, returned. Within three weeks we filled most positions and made adjustments for the rest. But I paid for that delay at the next board meeting. While they said they did not want any arm-twisting they were upset that I had not found teachers to fill all positions the first week. They were frustrated with what they considered my predecessor’s arm-twisting approach and paper pushing, but believed that was the only way we would get the people we needed. I was responsible now and I should  “get those positions filled.” I disagreed and held my ground for every single program. Some came around and I made enemies of others.

I had no idea what God had for me here. I had already alienated some of my bosses to hang on to a principle I believed would give us the leaders we needed. I had come to really enjoy Christian Service Brigade and discussed the leadership role with Della and finally took it on myself. I reasoned it would give me a connection to the boys. That would be a foundation for a youth group.. By doing so, it would be one more night I would be out. I was concerned about that.

It took a few weeks to get into a pattern, but I eventually got home for supper every night. I left mid afternoon to get three or four hours with my family. I also went into work early or after the worst of the traffic. I did not get caught very often in the incredible traffic.

WELCOME TO TENTH AVENUE chapter 134

The first few days were quite a rush. We were to be introduced to the congregation on the first Sunday of September, but there was much to be done in the meantime. I believe we still had about 12 days before the scheduled introduction. We felt a little less rushed once we knew were would have an extra week before we began public ministry.

We called the movers to find out where they were located and how to get there. Surrey – wherever that was. On the bright side, they were holding back the beds and my books as we had asked and would deliver them on Thursday. It was Tuesday morning, but we accepted their offer, we needed to get groceries and get semi settled. We needed to figure out where on earth we were.

We drove to Port Coquitlam on the #1 in the worst traffic I had ever been in. I was looking at a map trying to find alternative routes. I could only see one other and figured I was most likely stuck with the Trans Canada. Since I was one who seemed to always forget something I needed either at home or at the office, I knew my habits had to change. One trip only.

We found the nearest grocery store and adjusted to hauling two kids around in a cart. Della remarked on how much better the fresh fruit and vegetables looked than in Saskatchewan. She liked that. We were asked to use the food that was left behind in the house. It wouldn’t keep till their return. We filled in around what we had.

We took our haul home and tried to figure out where to put it. We were allowed to use any of the kitchen dishes and equipment. Della was terrified that something might get damaged and really wanted her own dishes and pots and pans. I called the movers again to see if they could find those things. “It would be very hard.” We gave that idea up and went and bought a new plastic kids bowl, plate, cup and cutlery. We had to feed the kids.

We made a map of where things were in the house so that when we moved it, we could put everything back. I was worried about the stress this was going to be on my wife and what it might also be on the host family. After all, this older couple had opened their home to two small children for the duration — whatever that might be. We had no concerns about Rhonda, but Rod was exploring.

On Wednesday I went into the office to meet the staff. I had met Kay, the office secretary. She gave us the house keys and the directions. I met briefly with Mr. Brooks who took me to meet Al McVety, his associate pastor and then we hunted down Burt, the janitor. About lunchtime, Mr. Brooks left for home. I had not brought a lunch and didn’t know the area. I did figure out there were places on Broadway. Al looked me up and we went over to Captain Cooks on Broadway just across the car lot. I did learn that he and I lived in exactly opposite directions. He was in Richmond. I also learned the church was not much of a local community church. While some lived in Vancouver proper, most lived much further out. I wondered what that would mean to the youth group and did not have a good feeling.

Since it was to far to go home for supper, I stayed in town and went back to Captain Cooks. I was looking forward to meeting the governing board. But it was a shock. I had the distinct feeling that no one knew I was coming and they were not too happy about it. W. H. was asked a few questions and briefly drilled on why they were not consulted. Meanwhile, I was trying to figure out what just happened and what this meant to my future. I did not feel secure.

There were questions about education, character and experience. Someone knew about my problems in college and brought it up. That discussion consumed a fair amount of time. Then it went to my passion and my practices. I was asked directly if I was a paper pusher. “No.” Was I an arm twister? “No,” that brought my first semi-positive comments. “Good, I was sick and tired of bring pressured into positions and responsibilities I did not want to do.” I heard the words, but did not understand the meaning. Al gave me a look that said, he would explain later.

“Where are you living?” Mr. Brooks addressed that concern. “But that is only temporary. What are we going to do with him permanently?” I wanted to know that too. Then the subject of Mr. Harder’s custom home that he was building for the senior pastor came up. Brooks commented as he apparently had done so before. “I own my own home and we prefer to stay there.” Well, lets put them there.” “Its not finished.” “How close are you?” “One or two months.” “Put them there as soon as possible. Can you wrap up in two months?” “Doubtful.”

It was a lengthy discussion and some did not want me there as it was being built for the pastor and others said we were already paying for the house, lets use it. Nothing was decided that night. The meeting broke up and only three or four of the men came to talk to me and welcome me to Vancouver. I left with the very distinct feeling I was not wanted. Yet, strangely I felt like I was in exactly the right place. That was weird. I still needed positive reinforcement to feel right about a place. Was I changing?

When I got home and related the evening to Della, I was conflicted, but determined to make everyone feel I was the right person in the right church. She wanted to know why we left Saskatoon. I couldn’t answer that question. I said, “It was warmer?” She gave me that look!

TO THE WEST COAST chapter 133

We first went to visit our friends attending Trinity Seminary in Dearborn, IL to see how the other half lived. They had one sweet deal. No rent, food being provided, but on the other hand they often had to deal with the spoiled rotten teens of the wealthy as the parents went off to Europe for a few months (or wherever they went). It was one of those good and bad situations.

From there we headed off to Nebraska. My parents had retired during my last year of Bible College to a small town on the border of the Kansas/Nebraska border, Hardy, NB. While I had never been to their home in the big town (population 200) I had been to the town before. My brother David and his family had lived there for many years.  Mom and Dad had bought the other half block right next to David. Hardy was a very small dying little place with most of the stores in the one block long city center empty. The bank was still there as was a convenience type store, a cafe and a bar. Their place was just one or two blocks off that main road,

Mom always loved little children and she was thrilled to have us home. This was also their first chance to see Rodney as well as out new baby. We didn’t have to do much while visiting as mom wanted to do everything for the children. That was hard on Della who did not want to relinquish (and did not) the care of and bonding with the daughter we had only had for two weeks. She was nearly 4 months old by this time.

I got to talk with Dave and Betty quite a bit to find out what it was like living right next door to mom and dad. My dad was always pretty easy going. He was not the interfering type. On the other hand, mom was just the opposite, She was a challenge to live with and I couldn’t see how living right next door would be much different that living with her. It wasn’t.

This was the first home dad had ever owned and he loved the house, the property, the large garden He put in, and the fact that a train ran by the house every afternoon. He would pull out his pocket watch from his bib overalls and check its time and declare whether it was late, early or on time. Dad had worked for the railroad his whole life. He would walk downtown and have coffee with some of the old guys at sitting on benches on the corner of the DO-DROP-INN.

From there we left for Vancouver. We didn’t do much sightseeing. We wanted to get settled with the little ones. We received word at my parents place that they had a house for us in Port Coquitlam. However, we would have to come to the church first to get a key. That meant arriving sometime before 4:30. Some timing was going to have to be worked out. We were to arrive on a Monday, get settled on Tuesday and be in the church on Wednesday,

Housing was very expensive in Vancouver. Even with the raise we had, I would not be able to live in the city proper. The church was building a house for W. H. Brooks that would be finished in three or four months. I never understood why they built the house. He owned his own home, as did Al McVety. They did not build it for me, but since I was the one who needed a house we would move in when it was finished. In the meantime, a couple was going away for several months and they had graciously opened their house for us to house sit, Neither Della or I were very excited about that prospect, but it was better than the street. The biggest concern was the need to leave the house just as we found it. Could we do that with a two year old exploring everywhere and everything? I knew Della was going to be on pins and needles.

I had been to Tenth Avenue on choir tour so knew where the church was. I have a pretty good sense of direction and knew I could find it. However, arriving in the area late afternoon gave us a very good look at another problem we would face - traffic. We dragged through the city to get to the church and then fought traffic from downtown to Port Coquitlam to find the house amongst some very winding roads. That was a bigger challenge than expected. When we got there we were both so exhausted and the children were fussy and we still had to figure out where to put them until we could get their crib and bed out of storage. Needless to say, it was a rough start.

A NEW ARRIVAL chapter 132

It was the last week of out time in Saskatoon. We were busy packing and pouting. Della was still upset that we were leaving and would have to begin the adoption process all over again. I wasn’t too happy about that myself, but we had both agreed it was in God’s hands. Our friends the Tracie’s had both their adopted girls by then and we were a little jealous, Of course, they had applied much earlier.

Betty Turnbull was going to be hardest person to leave. She had taken that week off from nursing to help us with anything we needed to be done. It was Monday afternoon and we were scheduled to leave the following Monday. One week to go. There was not going to be much church work that week. The movers were due on Friday. We had no place to live when we would get to Vancouver, so out stuff was going into storage. We planned a detour, the long way, to Vancouver. We left for the Chicago area to view our friends Ron and Joan Gifford. Ron was at----------- and we were fascinated by the job they had getting them through school. There were house sitting and moving from place to place with no home of their own. When we visited they were house parents at an elite private school. From there we would go through Nebraska to visit my parents and then on to Vancouver.

We were all wrapping dishes and packing them away when we got a call from Mrs. Mitchaluk. Could we be in Regina Wednesday morning at 9:00? She had a baby girl for us. Della took the call and almost fell on the floor. What? Who? I can’t believe it. She had been our social worker when we got Rodney James. I’m in the background mouthing the words she was saying right back to her. What is going on?

She had a small little squeal and the biggest grin I had ever seen. I knew it was good news, but didn’t know what. Would you just end the call and tell me what is going on? When she got off the phone the first thing she said, was, “God answered prayer. We have a daughter.” Our social worked knew how much we wanted a daughter and she said she was determined to find us one before we moved.

We called the Roses first to see if we could spend Tuesday night with them. She then called Darlene Tracie to share the good news. She sure talked to Darlene a lot longer than to me. I just got the facts. Darlene got the joy; I know we called several other people including pastor Boldt to se if we could dedicate her on Sunday. He was going to do it on Sunday. We hadn’t even seen her but wanted the congregation to share out joy and meet our daughter before we left.

We could hardly contain ourselves. Out baby had been born in Regina and we were taking her with us to BC. We could barely get things packed on Tuesday, but knew we needed to be nearly done before we left. We weren’t sure we would be much done before the movers arrived. Betty stayed with Rod on Wednesday.

This is a fairly typical photo of the kids first year together. Rod ignored Rhonda and She was curious about him.

On Wednesday we arrive in the adoption waiting room and Mrs. Mitchaluk came in to meet us. “Do you want to met your daughter.?” Absolutely! She came back into the room carrying this beautiful and very happy baby dressed in a cute pink little dress and chewing on her fist. She was laughing and smiling and we were thrilled. She arrive with a diaper bag full of things we would need, small gifts from each of the children as they home that had cared for her and a note from the family saying how much they enjoyed and loved her and how happy they knew we would be with this delightful child.

We signed all the paper work, thanked Mrs. Mitchaluk and took her straight over to the meet grandma and grandpa Rose. We drove home that afternoon and spent the rest of the day showing her off to our friends. We received the greatest farewell gift ever as a confirmation that we were making the right move.

Cute kids!

Our last Sunday Rhonda Elisabeth Walker was dedicated, we attended a farewell get together for us that night (also a welcome for the Wylie's), and left Monday morning with a mix of tears and joy. We were leaving many we loved and beginning a brand new adventure.

A FAREWELL LETTER chapter 131

My departure from Saskatoon came rather suddenly. I wasn’t making plans or even thinking of leaving. I could not see the future or know what future ministries this door would open. I left with a degree of frustration.

We had hosted Norm and Ruth Wylie for a meal while they were candidating to replace Les Hamm, the associate pastor. In the course of the evening he mentioned the salary he was being offered. I kept a straight face, but was immediately upset. The next morning I wanted to know why a person with whom I attended college and who had never been in ministry was being offered so much more than I after five years of service.

I reasoned that my ministry was greatly appreciated and going extremely well. With five years of experience under my belt I believed I was worth more than someone just entering ministry. I was told that job was worth more. After a brief discussion (read argument) no change had occurred and I left feeling unappreciated and frustrated. It did not make sense to me.

Later that week, I got a call from W. H. Brooks, the pastor of Tenth Avenue Alliance Church in Vancouver, BC who was looking for a Christian Education pastor. Bill Goetz was leaving and he needed a replacement. We talked about what the job would entail and it offered slightly more responsibility. I liked that. When he mentioned the wage, it was already more than was being offered for the new position in Saskatoon so I was interested. I was upset about the wages in Saskatoon, but still did not want to leave so I negotiated with Pastor Brooks for an even higher offer. I knew it would cost more to live in Vancouver. We came to an agreement and he flew to Saskatoon for a more formal interview. I don’t believe anyone knew he was there, but he may have contacted Pastor Boldt to get permission to meet with me. That was the way things were done in 1971.
I did not want to leave this group of kids, The first group had all graduated and moved on and the current group were terrific. We were doing more and having more fun. I was aware that certain things would come to an end if I left and that bothered me. The paper would definitely end. On the other had, how long could it last? It was fun but very time consuming. The thought of leaving the incredible camps was another issue as was quizzing. It seems that in every position I had there was something different that rose to the top. It was clearly quizzing in Saskatoon. 

I accepted his offer and we began making plans to move. Our biggest concern was that we had applied for adoption of our second child only six months earlier. We wondered if that application could be transferred to British Columbia. No, it could not. We would have to start all over. That certainly gave us pause. Had we made a mistake? Della thought we had and let me know. While I had accepted the assignment in Vancouver, I had not yet resigned at University Drive. Maybe it wasn’t too late to stay where we were? After checking with adoption in BC, we were told there would be at least a three-year wait for a child. Neither of us wanted to wait that long. It would then be five years between our children.

I’m sure it has much more to do with a sense of rejection, but I was determined to move. Della was no happy, but agreed and we set everything in motion.

Here is the farewell letter I wrote for the AYF Valley News on June 25, 1971.

Special thanks to Dorothy, Dot, Forrest, Morgan, Hildebrandt (all the same person) who was the editor of the AYF Valley News and scanned all the issues. I loved seeing what we thought then and the sense of humor. I only reprinted a few of the many pages published, but I could not have done it without her help. Thank you Forrest.

A PRAYER ANSWERED chapter 130

With the help of Lorraine Willems, Melanie Boldt and my vague memories, we have pieced together many of those who went from University Drive Alliance Church off to Bible College and many who entered ministry. The problem with any list is that it is always incomplete. Names are accidentally missed. What thrilled me is that Mrs. Bowker and I were happy to know the results of prayers far exceeded the ten we were praying for. After four years in Saskatoon there were eleven at Bible College. But it did not stop there. It snowballed. From 1966 until I completed my teaching career at Canadian Bible College I counted over 50 from Saskatoon. I tried to count only names I remember or recognized. They may all have been from University Drive.

This is our partial list of students from Della and my Saskatoon days who were or are in ministry:

Joan Ardell - married Darrell Schultz and they pastored in SK and BC,

Wayne Boldt - pastoring in Moose Jaw (CMA) 2012

Holden Bowker – Bowker Brothers and currently director Haven Ministries 2012

Carol Doerksen - served at Circle Drive Alliance as bookkeeper.

Ken Driedger and Melaine (Boldt) - Western Canadian District Superintendent, Calgary, AB 

Tom Fehr and Audrey (Thiessen) - pastored in Cold Lake, AB

Dorothy Hildebrandt – was married to a minister

Lynette Miniely married a pastor and may be in Montana 2012

Bob Peters – Canadian Midwest District Superintendent, deceased

Kevin Peters is a professor at Prairie Bible College 2012

Diane McCombs - married Garth Froese. - Was youth pastor at Circle Drive

Errol Rempel – Pastor Seven Oaks Alliance Church, Abbotsford, BC

Ken Siemens pastored in Nunavut NWT.
Lorraine Willems married Murray Boldt - pastor in BC

If you know of others who were or are in ministry and were high school youth from University Drive between 1966-1971, please add their names in the comments.

I do not share the belief that a full time ministry must be for life, nor do I believe that any one person is ever the sole one responsible for impacting any one life toward following and serving God. We all are where we are because of the influence of many. When I turned 50, I tried to write as many as I could of those when had a major impact on my life. I wanted to thank them for helping me become the person I was. I did not reach all, but many.

While some whose lives we touch fall away, we rarely know the final story, and may not even know it at the end of life. We rise, we serve, we fall, we fail and the pattern may repeat several times. “For all have sinned.” That includes those of us who are and have been in ministry. I have been angry, impatient, demanding, overbearing, controlling and other things some of you may know and things I don’t want to put in writing, but I love the Lord and am grateful that he loved even me. Isn’t Gods grace wonderful?

I am proud as punch of all the youth from this, my first full time ministry. I am grateful to have had a very small part in their lives as they have pursued their walk with God. I am just glad to have known them. I am grateful that we basically got along. I didn’t know anything. I just love ‘em and longed to see them find and walk with God.

Only those youth from those days will remember that the great revival that hit Saskatoon in 1972 began with the youth. They came to prayer meetings, they poured their hearts out to God. He was present at camps long into the early mornings. I remember the year Les Hamm spoke at camp and we both stood in awe around the campfire watching Gods hand move around the circle. I have never seen anything like it since.

We were living in Vancouver when the revival broke out and one of those kids wrote to say some adults seemed concerned that the revival was not having the affect on them that it was on the adults. That person wrote, “God had already come to us.” It was true. The large number who went off to Bible College and those who entered ministry as just a small indication of what God had done.

BONUS POST 10

I SERVED MY TERM chapter 129

1960's Time Square

My last hoorah with the International Christian Education Committee was indeed memorable. I had served my three-year term without distinction. I gave my reasons why the constitution was a bad idea and tried to communicate that as more and more professional youth pastors were hired in churches the constitution that we had spent three years on would simply be ignored. It eventually was ignored. I don’t blame the committee. There had always been a constitution. Every Christian education program in the church seemed to have a constitution. If followed, the church would have limited ways to maneuver and create new ways to minister with new names and new directions. But an approach over 50 years old was hard to shake loose and I was the new kid on the block and not in the league with the others. On the bright side, I enjoyed the men on the committee and my trips to New York City where I had my eyes opened to a big new world. Especially on this last visit.

While Air Canada denied my claim, I am convinced I got food poisoning on the flight to New York. I was getting sick the first night, my stomach was hurting and I had thrown up. I managed to cross 44^th Street to headquarters for the meeting the next morning and basically moaned and groaned my way through a couple of hours. Finally, I went back to the hotel and crawled into bed. Nothing is worse than being stuck in a hotel when you are sick. I wanted Della. (Like Della and I always said, “When a man is sick – he’s dying, when a woman is sick she still had work to do.) Well, I was dying.

I slept most of the day and didn’t eat a thing. Food sounded repulsive. Early that evening I got a call from what sounded like a young man who said, “I’m returning your call.” I didn’t know who he was and explained that I had made no calls and left no messages. “Are you Clyde Walker?” “Yes.” “Well I have a note to call you at the Madison, I’m over here at the Waldorf Astoria. I came to New York with my parents to see them off on a cruise. I go home tomorrow.”

Since I was lying in bed and had talked to no one since leaving the meeting, I mostly listened to his extended story. He was from Iowa and had never been in the big city and could he at least talk to me for a while. I was fine with that until…

He gradually moved into an area that made me very nervous. I began to feel like he wasn’t who he said he was. He was a gay man making a play to hook up with me. I tried to be kind initially. I was sick and didn’t want to see anyone. Out of curiosity, I hung on longer than I should. The more he talked the most I got the feeling that he was in the same hotel, maybe on staff. He had seen me arrive, maybe even checked me in and thus had access to my information. Not only did he want to come and take care of me, I began to believe he could potentially walk right in my room. When he began sexually suggestive directions, I slammed the receiver down in his ear. He did not give up. He called back twice telling me that I really wanted him. Well, no I didn’t and I was getting very frightened of who he was and where he might be. I got up to make sure the chain on the door was locked.

He did not call again. I managed to get to the meeting on the last morning and eat a little bit, but I was not back to my old self yet. I always caught a late afternoon flight back to the great white north and could hardly wait for departure time to arrive. I had checked out of the hotel and felt safe and secure in the C&MA headquarters. As often happened, I got stuck in Toronto while my flight to Saskatoon was delayed while some “minor” mechanical glitch was fixed. “Please do not leave the departure area as your flight may be available to departure at any time.” “Do I have time to get something to eat?” I was now hungry. “No!” Nearly two hours later we left. Yes, I left anyway and got something to eat.

What Times Square looked like when I first saw it in 1968.

What 42nd looked like in 1968 (slight exaggeration).

Saskatoon never felt so wonderful. Our move out of the city had not even entered our heads yet, but it was coming sooner than I would have dreamed. I loved the city, the church and my ministry. Nothing in me suggested that I might mover or want to move.  Les Hamm had announced that he was leaving and they were soon going to begin a search for his replacement. I didn’t know that our move would be connected to his departure, but it was. 

I also did not know when leaving the Times Square area of New York City, that my next visit to that area would take me to the new C&MA headquarters in Nyack, NY. See, they eventually invited me back. There was no constitution in my next visit and I did not serve on that committee again. 

BONUS POST 9

We always took large groups to youth conference and won may competitions because of our size and extremely competitve group,

Some of things would never be permitted in this enlightened age. But they sure were fun. After all, look at me. I never grew up with a seat belt or sat in the baby car seat and I ate dirt. I think I'm OK. Well, maybe not,

Do you just love the price of camp,

FUNNY THINGS HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO MATURITY chapter 128

There are so many moments in life that just make us chuckle. After five years in one city there were several. Not all were laugh out loud funny, maybe peculiar is a better word. Some just taught me important lessons.

We loved having Lois Rose live with us. As the three of us would work in the kitchen doing the dishes it seemed that many things reminded Lois and I of a line from a hymn or chorus. So — we sang the line and all laughed. This was very regular.

Rod was two when we were entertaining some friends for dinner and the lady, a former school teacher, began to talk to him in a very child like way. He turned to his mother and said, “What did she say?” Rod spoke clearly from the very beginning.

We were at church for a baptismal service and as usual were sitting near the back so Rod would have a place for his imaginary pet bull. Strange I know, but if anyone sat next to him, he had a fit. It was just easier to leave an empty spot next to him than have him scream, “You’re sitting on my bull.” Why couldn’t he just have an imaginary friend instead of a bull. When Carl Tracie entered the water, Rod took notice. The Tracies were also adoptive parents and our best friends so he knew them well. As Pastor Bolt put Carl under the water Rod yelled, “He’s drowning uncle Carl.”

Early in our ministry we went to the home of another young couple for a gathering of young married couples. In a crowded family room we listened to the host use his wife as the butt of nearly all his jokes. She was clearly embarrassed and most likely very hurt. We determined that would never happen in our marriage in public or private. We would not use one another as a punch line and I don’t think we ever did.

There was an older woman who was always at Wednesday night prayer meetings and used the same phrase every week and it struck us funny. “Touch his tongue with the live goals from thine alter.” We would chuckle with the image of campfire ember bring placed on Pastor Boldt’s tongue.

I loved the total emotional control Pastor Boldt had in public and what a fireball he was in prayer. He prayed a lot like King David: save me, destroy my enemies. He taught me to pray my heart not the words that would please others. I still consider him to be the most tactful man I ever worked with.

Larry Clark confronted me on my lack of emphasizing evangelism and especially helping the teens with school friendships. He was right. I was embarrassed.

Dorothy Hildebrandt jumped all over me for redoing some of her artwork we had put together for an upcoming zone rally. Most of what she did was more than acceptable and she was using her gift. Exactly what I was trying to achieve, but I wanted one piece to look better. She was right. I was contradicting my own philosophy of “let the kids do it.” I never took a job away from someone else again.

When we moved into the house on Preston and finished painting and everyone left we thought Rod had gotten awfully quiet. We found in him in the newly painted master bedroom painting the wall with a black permanent marker. He was trying to help. He didn’t succeed. I repainted the wall the next day.

I admit it, my office could always be cleaner. I’m a stacker. That annoys the neat freaks. When I can’t find something, I clean up. Mostly I just hate filing. Leaving Saskatoon did not end the jokes. You should see my desk now – maybe you should. That way you will know I haven’t changed in that area.

THERE WERE MOMENTS chapter 127

There are moments in life in which you remember snatches, a mere glimpse and not the whole story. They come in all shapes and sizes. Some are just the ordinary parts of the day, some funny, some rather strange. These are two of those stories.

•  It was still early in our days in Saskatoon, and we were living on Osler, maybe a little more than a mile from the church. I had been in my office late. At that time, my office was still part of the main offices to the left of the church entrance. I was just getting ready to leave and had left my office and the secretary’s area and pulled the doors closed behind me when the telephone rang. Still at the door I unlocked it and returned to answer. The call was unimportant, a request for information. Weird. It was nearly 11:00 p.m. I left the offices locking the doors behind me again. When I got to the entrance I reached in my pocket for my keys and they were not there. It was one of the terrifying moments when your mistake flashed through your mind; I had set the keys down on my desk when answering the phone. I could no longer get to them.

I called Della on the foyer phone and told her what happened and explained that I would be walking home to get her car keys so I could drive and get some keys from someone. She offered to walk toward me and we would go together, I had called the church secretary to see if I could borrow keys from her. She was on the only one I thought might still be up.

When Della met me, we drove to get the keys and returned to lock the church. I got my keys but noticed there was now a light on in the stairwell at the end of the hall. The building was dark when we left to get the key.

We were aware that occasionally someone was sleeping in the church. Traces of their presence could be found, but nothing was taken. We had also had some theft. What to do? Check it out? I was way to nervous to go down there and see what was going on. I had no idea what I would find. I left, locked the door and prayed, “God, its your house, please protect it.” We went home.  He did.

•  There was a strange little old man who always came to prayer meetings. He wrote a weekly paper on end times that annoyed me. It was full of strange speculation. He often came to pray with the pastor before services. When Della first met him she had a sense that something was wrong. That was the first time we were aware of her sensitivity toward the spiritually and thus potentially dangerous “godly people.”

The first piece of information that he was a wacko came from a troubled college girl who few considered very stable. She explained that she was being led into a deeper spirituality and was becoming “sexless.” The concept was almost laughable. She would bathe at his home and he would sit naked and watch her without any obvious sexual reaction. This was his idea of total spiritual purity – the absence of lust. It was Della and my idea of total depravity, but no one was sure how to check it out. No one wanted to act on only the word of this girl. It took some time, but other women other being taught by him and came began to come forward. He didn’t remain in the church after that.

I Could not find a white one, but this is the car.

•  My wonderful 1962 Fairlane 500 with genuine imitation leather seats was beginning to cost more in repairs than a new car payment might be. We had applied for adoption and wanted a lightly larger car. We settled on a white 1968 4-door Dodge Polaris. It was the last new car I ever bought. Too much depreciation. 

MY WIFE chapter 126

I haven’t written much about my wife of 26 years; so this is a bit of catch up,

Della was special from birth. Born of a single parent and reared by her grandmother they often walked from south hill in Red Deer, Alberta to the bottom of north hill to attend church. Della grew up a very hard working girl. I’m sure it came from the woman she called mother. Mom Lyon still had the corner store when Della was small. Eventually the store became her living room. Mom worked her entire life to feed and cloth her small family.  When her husband was around, he was not involved much in Della’s life.

Della worked just as hard as mom. As a kid, she had a paper route on South Hill that she shared with her older brother Leroy. As a teen she worked at a corner store near the high school owned by the Sawyers.

On a bight and windy day

She was a teen model for Eaton’s in Red Deer and had the bearing and posture of one walking the runway. She always stood with that model stance, her right foot at a near right angle and her left foot pointed ahead and slightly left. If standing for any length of time her hands would be lightly clasp in front. She had a huge smile that her eyes to brighten and twinkle while showing off her bright white teeth. She often wore an artificial flower or pin near her neck. Her shoulder length sandy-blond hair was wavy.

It was her smile and gentle ways what attracted people. The corners of her eyes would wrinkle and it seemed to cause them to twinkle. She would light up with a sense of genuine love emanating. Between the two of us, she had the memory. I could never keep the birthdays straight between my son and her mother – one day apart. Who was first?

The college and church teaching of “helpmate” created a problem for me. I expected, no almost demanded, she “help me.” It took the birth of our son for me to free her to be herself and use her gifts in the way God designed for her. She certainly was help, but was most at ease entertaining and welcoming people into our home.

Over all our years together, I would think thousands had Sunday dinner with us. We got to know people there. We made real connections there. We befriended people there. She wanted youth in our home. If I didn’t plan having them enough, she asked when they would come next? She was warm, friendly and comforting. Her manner and approach gradually turned into a significant ministry to girls and women.

I learned after her death how encouraging she was with letters. As we gained more experience, she had a special heart for young women beginning ministry.

I learned the importance of her at my side when greeting people after church. I learned it from Pastor Boldt. Walter and Doris already had a well-oiled system. As people approached them she told him their names. He was no better at names than I. Della was my Doris. She could do the same for me.

Our relationship was saved with the birth of our son. It did not eliminate our individual quirks, but we began to made the two me’s a ”WE.” I doubt I, or for matter many others, thought it would be as hard as it was. I was one selfish guy and she was one generous woman. The merging of our gifts and talents began in our home and then slowly moved to the public arena.

She never thought of herself as talented, but I did, especially in the kitchen. She was a wonderful cook. It was her center of operation. As guests arrived, I greeted and got them settled and then she would make an appearance until something needed her attention back in control central. Before they arrived, I was to straighten the room, set the table, arrange the centerpiece and make the entertainment area look good. After they left I was to clear everything to the kitchen and we did the dishes. She could not go to bed until everything was put away. Boy have I changed.

The kitchen was also our greatest and longest point of contention. When she worked, she opened drawers and cabinet doors and left them open if she thought she would be going in there again. I ran into them quit often. I complained – loudly and often. It took years for us to work this out. First I learned to accept that the kitchen was her domain and I was simply a guest, or part-time employee. I was permitted in, but had no authority. In fact, I was wanted in for her useful purpose. She continued to open cupboards and drawers and I was eventually permitted to close them when I entered. All this was without rancor. Things opened and closed quite often.

We both had a similar quirk. We were stackers and needed a place near the entry where we could stack things we had just brought in. While living next door to the church, the piling was everywhere. We had no system yet. On Osler Street it became the bedroom dresser. On Preston, there was a small 12-inch wide counter just inside the kitchen and near enough to the front door that it received our stacks. Strangely, we never discussed where the stacks would go and never mixed our stacks, but there was agreement, always. Because we entertained so often, usually every week, the stacks disappeared regularly. They were not permitted to exist when company came.

The other main point of contention was household repairs. Della grew up with a father who could repair most anything. She married a guy paranoid about repairs. He didn’t know how, had no sense that he would succeed, and was embarrassed to try. As a result needed repairs often sat still needing work for way too long. I was trying to get up the courage to attempt the job. At least that was my excuse. Unfortunately, we rarely had the income to hire help, so I needed to learn. It took years to learn to handle those things with ease. She learned patience and I learned promptness.

We managed very well when finally becoming “WE” until a period in Canby, OR. That is a much later story.