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.