Three Lost Boys

 My Story #54

Three Lost Boys

Once in about 1980-81, my wife and I had put to bed three cute little boys, which were ages about 4, 5, and 7, the day had wound down, and my wife and I had settled down for a nice rest for the night.

But before we were in our bed to sleep for the night, the phone rang, and the party on the other end of the call was a neighbor and a member of the church that I pastured at that time. He said, "Are you missing some boys?" I said, "No, my boys are in bed asleep." He answered, "Well, there are three little boys here in my living room that look a lot like your three little boys."

Stunned and confused, I went into the bedroom where my boys were supposed to be asleep and noticed that there was not even one little boy there. Well, you can image how confused and anxious I was.

When my wife and I got to the neighbor's house, he told us that the oldest boy told them that I said they could come to his house, which, of course, I did not. I took the boys home and scolded them straightly with a little fear in my heart, because the road that they had walked down to get to the neighbor's house was a very busy road with a lot of traffic.

Now, this is only the beginning of the story. A month or two later my wife and I stopped at a house in the town to visit a yard sale. I told the lady who I was, and she said, "Oh, you are the one who has the three little boys who walked down the road to the neighbor's house running away from home, aren't you?" I said, "How do you know about that?" She answered, "Well, nearly everyone in town knows about that!"

Boy, what a reputation an innocent pastor can get just because he has three little boys who tried to run away from home. I shall never live this down--now I am telling everyone about it myself! How about that?

 

My Story #53

 Ronnie W. Wolfe

Trip Of A Lifetime

I do not remember the year, but our quartet was scheduled to travel to Hollywood, Florida, for a revival meeting. I left Chesapeake, Ohio, where I was pasturing to drive to Lexington, Kentucky, to pick up Wayne Hart so we could travel together to Florida.

Once in the car I began to drive, and Wayne sat in the passenger's seat and talked and talked with me until we reached somewhere near Atlanta, Georgia. I asked Wayne if he wanted to get a motel room and spend the night to break up our trip. He said he would drive a while if we could just keep going. I agreed, and Wayne got into the driver's seat and began to drive.

Wayne drove for about 1 1/2 hours and woke me up and said, "I am getting really sleepy. I don't think I can drive any farther." So, we stopped and switched back so I could drive. I drove all the way from that point to our destination.

It was early in the morning when we reached the church. We went through the day visiting with people after a short nap and later had a wonderful dinner. Then we went to church for a long service.

After church, I went into the room the church provided for me, and I went to sleep. I slept all night. When I awoke the next morning, I ate a little breakfast and then went back to bed. I slept all night and nearly all day every day throughout that week, because I was simply exhausted. I don't believe I have been the same since.

We made it through the week and got back home safe. It was a good meeting, and I am thankful. But I will never again take on a venture like this one. I don't think Wayne would have, either.

 

My Story #53

 

Dream, Disaster, And Delight

Dream

Dreams seemed to be a pattern in my life as in my mother's. Some of these dreams seemed to come true. One dream I shall never forget if I live to be 1,000 years old.

Before I was married, I lived with my mother for about two years after my father died. While living there, a small boy named David was our next-door neighbor. He and I became friends, and he came to my mother's house almost every day to be with us. Sometimes he would eat with us, and once in a while he would stay all night.

One night, after I had married, I dreamed that he drowned. There was an old cistern at our barn, which no one used anymore, and I dreamed that he drowned in that cistern. As we all looked into the cistern after he fell in, I noticed that bubbles kept coming up so that we could not find him. Over and over again this effervescence came up, hiding the whereabouts of David.

When I awoke from the dream, I had a sad feeling, but I knew it was only a dream. The next time I saw David, I told him about the dream, and we laughed. I also told my wife but no one else.

Disaster

Time went on for about a month; and, to make a long story short, my wife and I discovered that the boy had drowned in a creek below my mother's house. This was so sad for me and my wife. Those searching for David's body did not find it for 28 days, and I went to the coroner's office to identify David, because the family did not want to see him like that.

Delight

The funeral director could not open the casket; it was closed at the funeral. I preached the funeral. This was one of the hardest funerals I have ever had to officiate. But, during the message of the gospel at that funeral, a young girl was saved by God's grace. That was a great delight.

When my second son was born, I gave him the middle name of David, after this boy. Fortunately, I took a very good picture of David before his death, and I still have an 8x10 of him. Every time I go to the cemetery where this boy is buried, I have to go to his grave and honor the memory that God gave me of this young man. He was eleven years old.

P. S. After this affair, I spoke to my mother about our dreams and made a covenant with her that we would ask God to take away these dreams, and the Lord did just that. God is SO good!