Dad had been preaching for some time in country schoolhouses in eastern Colorado. Three months after my birth, Mama and Daddy moved to Virginia. Here his work involved him in a regular ministry, but not in a "regular" church house, as the church in which he worked was, again, a schoolhouse. Being a minister from the West in an Appalachian valley apparently offered excitement as well as opportunity to preach the gospel, for we children grew up listening to the stories Dad told of those months in this situation. Not everyone took kindly to the "outsider" and some were antagonistic to the message as well as toward the messenger. But Dad had his supporters and God prospered the ministry. He took a full-time "real" church pastorate in Nebraska in the summer of 1935.
(The pictures of the schoolhouse and Mom and Dad are in a scrapbook presentation of Dad's career as a minister which was displayed upon his retirement.)
3 comments:
Your family must have felt like a ping pong ball with all of those moves. Seems to me that the trend these days is toward trying to keep pastors in place for longer periods.
Like going down memory lane! Though I don't remember the place, I recall the stories.
Chuck--Ping pong balls are very resilient, so long as they don't crack.
Vee--And you probably remember the details of the stories better than I.
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