My Dad

I was thinking the other day about the difference Pastors live today compared to the 1930’s. It was my father’s first call to serve three churches in Northern Minnesota, a very backward part of the country at that time. He served the three churches faithfully attending every meeting the churches held whether it was a Ladies Aid,mens meetings or youth activities. He directed choirs in the church in town and held Bible studies there too. And he walked to what he called Preaching places, sometimes seven or eight miles! These were held in homes where neighbors gathered to have the only church service they could attend. There were no roads out there.

Why did he take this call? Well, no one else would! He was called to one church in Tacoma, Washington but he felt God wanted him to go to Holt, Minnesota. He was always a follower of God and his parents. His mother wanted him to become a musician and his dad wanted him to follow him by becoming a pastor. Dad wasn’t sure what God wanted so he became both. His study in music payed off. He gave organ and piano concerts all over the Minneapolis area and even played  in a dance orchestra while attending Seminary classes.

Even while he was a pastor his music was a great helper. He closed every pot luck with a sing-along, sometimes with the old songs like” Harvest Moon” or ” Let Me Call You Sweetheart” or one of the old hymns. He’d say,”How does that one go?” Someone would sing a part of it and off he would go on the piano.

I always wanted him to play the piano at home so I could sing. He did that as often as he could but I sulked when he said, “I can’t do it tonight, Sissy, I have to go to church.”

Now, I certainly can understand, I wish I realized how much he gave the people God wanted him to serve.




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