I became pastor
AUGUST 29, 2007 (WEDNESDAY) – I’m writing a series of blogs on the churches where I’ve held membership and/or served.
Yesterday we saw a young college freshman (me) working with his friend from 
Houston in the Prairie Point Baptist Church near Groesbeck. Olen Waldrip, pastor of First Baptist church asked me to come to his church and work with youth and music. They would pay me $25 per month. That does not sound like much, but inflation would make it $205 today. To a college freshman in 1950, it seemed very generous. Because I planned to become a pastor, they gave me the title, “Associate Pastor.” The truth of the matter was that I did not have the slightest idea about how to do youth work, and knew nothing about music, either. But they liked the way I led singing, and they enjoyed hearing me sing solos. I was, therefore, officially a staff member of the First Baptist Church of Groesbeck, at 18 years of age. I stayed with them for one and one-half years, with time off during the summer months to work in revival meetings around the state. The church was building a brand new worship center, and was meeting in a courtroom at the county courthouse while the new church building was under construction. A footnote to that chapter of my life: when the first service was held in the new building, the pastor was ill and asked me to preach. That building has long since been replaced by a newer, bigger and better one.
Bro. Waldrip knew I wanted to preach, so In early fall, 1951, he drove me down to Oletha, 15 miles southeast of Groesbeck, to talk with R.C. Powell, a deacon of the Oletha Baptist church. We sat on the porch of the Powell home as Bro. Waldrip explained who I was and recommended me to be considered as the new pastor of the Oletha church. R.C. and his wife, Crystelle, with their daughter, Dene, were to become some of the dearest friends I would ever have in the days ahead. As a result of that interview, I received an invitation to preach at the church in October. After I preached one Sunday, I received another invitation to come back and preach in view of a call to become the pastor. I did go back, and the church called me on the last Sunday of the month. They ordained me on November 18, 1951. They ordained two deacons, Dewell Thomas and Richard Stem, at the same service. Three years after I had suddenly appeared at church in Houston, I had become a pastor. I was 20 years old and a Junior in college. It was even hard for me to believe.
I had no car. I had taken the bus to Groesbeck for services there, but Oletha was 15 miles from the bus route. At our Friday night mission in Waco, I had met Dwight Dudley, from Fort Worth, and we were in a class together. When the church invited me to come and preach the first time, I approached Dwight after class and asked if he would like to drive me in his Model A sedan, and attend church at Oletha with me. He enthusiastically agreed to do that. And so began a friendship that would last a lifetime. Our youngest son is his namesake. When the church asked me back in view of a call, he gladly drove me out there again, encouraging me every step of the way. When I became pastor, Dwight continued to use his car and accompanied me, teaching Bible classes, and helping to lead the church as a volunteer. I soon got an old wreck of a car, which could have easily been named, “Old Smokey,” and Dwight kept going with me to the church. (I’ll write more about Dwight soon; he is in Heaven today). A mutual friend at school, Bill Webb, from Mississippi, started going with us. Bill led the singing and taught classes too. Together the three of us went to the church each weekend. We became friends forever. It was a wonderful time for us three boys, and the people at the church were blessed as well. It so happened there was a great group of high school young people in the church at that time, and we all had a grand time together in the Lord. Yes, indeed, “those were the days!” I remained pastor there until I graduated from college, and then, thinking that Oletha was too far from Fort Worth, where I would be attending seminary in the fall, I resigned. I went back home to Houston for the summer and moved to Fort Worth in the fall. Dwight’s family provided a room for me in their home. I lived with them, attending seminary, for about a month until Wanda and I married October 3, 1953. Wanda was already teaching in Cleburne, not far from Fort Worth, and that’s where we lived in a small upstairs apartment until our move to Lampasas at the end of the year. More about the churches in my life, tomorrow.