The Road to Louisiana

In May of 1992, I told the congregation that we would be leaving.  At that point I had no idea where we might be going.  I didn’t want to start applying for positions with other churches without letting people in the congregation know what was taking place.   That’s good insofar as communication is concerned, but you really put yourself in the hand of the Lord.  It seemed clear to me that God was guiding us in a new direction, but at that point I had no idea where that direction might be.

I was fifty-eight years old.  A lot if preachers have a shelf-life of less than twenty years.  Every church wants a forty-two year old minister, with perfect kids, and they consider it a plus if some of the kids are teenagers.  I was forty-two when I came to Cedar Rapid.  My children were not perfect, and neither were we, but my oldest was a junior in high school.  Supposedly I was in the prime years of my ministerial effectiveness.  When I left, I was 58 and the nest was empty.  I was still excited about preaching, but some would probably say my best years were behind me.  I wouldn’t agree with that.

Those churches that were looking for preaching candidates did not exactly line up at the door with job offers.  I put out 38 resumes in the next six months.  I soon learned that the hiring culture had changed on me.  Throughout most of my life, preachers were hired through the good ole boy network.  You knew somebody, who knew somebody, who recommended you and that was that.  By the early nineties, churches began to look more like businesses.  

They appointed search committees, who didn’t necessarily know what they were doing.  One search group, told me they would hire a preacher within a month.  A week or so later, they told me I would be removed from their list of candidates.   They thought they were on a fast track.  A few weeks after that, they called to tell me that they had been hasty in their judgment and asked me to reconsider. I declined.  

A member of another search committee called to say they had listened to my tape, and they were greatly impressed.  They sent a letter to notify me that I was under serious consideration, but they sent another fellow a letter saying they were no longer interested.  Unfortunately, they got the letters switched.  I got the rejection notice and somebody else got a “we’re interested” letter.   A couple of weeks after I got another letter to tell me they were no longer interested.   They never told me why they changed their mind.

I interviewed with five churches.  I removed myself from consideration twice, and two other churches decided to look for somebody else after hearing me preach and talking with me.   I was getting pretty discouraged, and one day I had a conversation with my friend, Dennis Randall, who was in Bossier City, Louisiana at the time.  He told me that the church in Minden was looking for someone to come work with them.  A few days later I got a call from Jim Frazier, one of the members at Minden.  Within a couple of weeks, Ann and I got on a plane and flew to Louisiana.  Within a week after our visit to Minden, we accepted an invitation to move there.  Minden was “Resume # 38.” 

We left Cedar Rapids for Minden on December 1, 1992.  From the time I announced my intention of relocating to our actual move was just short of six months.  That sounds like a long time to be a “lame duck,” but in reality it was good.  We had put down deep roots in Iowa, and the six month period allowed us time sell our house and leave the congregation with good will.   When I drove  pointed the car south, I was excited about what would come next.