Memories At The Pulpit

This One Turned Out Differently

Memories At the Pulpit

Memories

Memories can start at the pulpit. It did for me.

Forty-six years ago, (In 1961 or 62), I was at the pulpit doing my thing as a student preacher from a local Christian College. I had started college at the University of Nebraska on a small scholarship. During that first year, friends from the church kept discussing the small Christian College they were attending. Since I had no idea what I would do with my life, I decided to change colleges and go there.

The following year, I enrolled in Bible classes in addition to regular classes. I enjoyed the lessons and did well. Several boys went on weekends to preach for local churches that didn't have preachers. This preaching activity was good practice for them, as some had decided to become preachers.

During the second year, they suggested that I also preach in towns that still needed preachers. I agreed, partly because one of the towns was where my parents went to church.

There were three small churches in three towns in the same general area, so three of us "boys" would head out in the same car early Sunday mornings. The driver would let each one out at their church and then go on to his. We were always invited to someone's home for dinner, and then, sometime in the afternoon, the driver would retrace his route and pick us up to head back to college.

During my second year at Christian College, I decided to become a teacher, so I transferred to a teachers' college close to where my parents lived.

After enrolling in the new college, the church where my folks went again needed an interim preacher. Since I had done it before, it was natural for them to ask me. I accepted, attended school full-time, and preached on the weekends, so now I was at the pulpit.

And now, for the memorable moment at the pulpit.

I was leading songs before my sermon, and in walked what I thought was a large family – eight people. New arrivals were great visitors! There was Mom and Dad, an older girl, a high school-looking boy, a grade school-looking girl, and three real small kids – one walking and two in arms.

Come to find out, they were two families. The Mom and Dad were the parents and grandparents of the group. The older girl was the 22-year-old widowed daughter with three children under four years old.

We were happy about their presence. Their singing and the Dad's Bible input were insightful.

Each week, I continued preaching and leading the singing. Sometimes, I would get invited to members' homes for Sunday dinners. I remember one embarrassing time. Mrs. N had invited several to her home. My parents, as well as the new family, were also asked that same Sunday. However, this was not embarrassing as we all were on good visiting terms at our Sunday services. What was awkward was Mrs. N's direct question to me. Privately, she asked, "Have you ever considered dating Carol?" You probably guessed it. Carol was the widow with three young children. The truth was that it had never crossed my mind. I had only dated a few times in college, but I was the academic type who spent most of my time in the books and working on my Sunday sermons. It is strange, though, how some questions get a person thinking.

Later, they invited me again for dinner, but this time, it was at the Mom and Dad's house. The Mom was a good cook, having cooked for six kids. They also invited Carol and her three children. So, here I was again in a social setting with Carol. Thoughts surfaced that maybe I should be thinking about dating Carol, even though she was a widow with three children.

After some thought, I asked Carol if she would attend the College Open House with me. She agreed. This date was in April. After this date, (It wasn’t really a date. I was just showing her where I want to college.) I would see her on Fridays or Saturdays besides Sundays.

I was awkward with her knowing she had been married before, and I didn't know how to act around her. Then, during a walk down by a little lake near where she lived, I asked her if I could hold her hand. I hadn't touched her before this. I remember the thrill of holding her hand for the first time. Things progressed quickly after this. We were married then, on June 30th of that same year, and it all began at the pulpit.

(This occurred in about 1961 or 62. As I add this remark on 4/1/2025, I am now 87 years old. Carol and I had 62 years together. She passed away on Nov. 2, 2023.)

11/17/07 added to computer.

By Larry E. Whittington