Today’s story begins on July 31 – this I know for sure. The year, however, is another thing. I could easily say, “The story begins on July 31, 1976.” Or, I could just as easily say, “It really starts on July 31, 1983.”
On July 31, 1976, shortly after 3:00 p.m., I was united in holy wedlock with the love of my life, Monica Marie Bickel at Immanuel Lutheran Church, Frankentrost (Saginaw), Michigan. We knew each other from grade school and youth group there. We started to date when she was fifteen and I was sixteen. Even before that we had very similar – virtually identical – vocational and college dreams. It only seemed right that we get married in the months between finishing our full-time college days and beginning to serve Christ and his church in our first placements.
On July 31, 1983, at approximately the same time, I was ordained into the pastoral ministry at Charity Lutheran Church, Detroit, Michigan and installed as her pastor. Monica was around eight months pregnant with our second son. We were surrounded by many family members and friends as I stepped into the role of succeeding my mentor and friend, the Rev. Karl Trautmann. In many ways this initiated my ministry at Charity, however, at the same time, it simply was the entrance into year eight and a new phase of my ministry there.
The episodes that flow from these July 31 dates are many. Of course, there are also many that lead up to them. Through it all it is exciting to look back and see God at Work – even when we were not exhibiting faithful behaviors. The word of Lamentations 3.22-23 come to mind … and remain true every year as we celebrate on July 31, as well as on all the dates between.
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions
never fail. They are new every morning; great is his faithfulness.
I invite you to laugh and rejoice, scratch your head in wonder, reflect upon your own life, and ultimately praise God in Christ Jesus with us as I tell you one of the “connecting stories”.
Being a year (plus) older than Monica, I was a year ahead of her in school. This complicated things in our college years, especially because we both started with two years of Junior College in Ann Arbor, Michigan and then finished up the final two years at Concordia, River Forest (Chicago), Illinois. This created an emotionally and relationally challenging pattern:
Year One – Monica finishing High School in Frankenmuth and me in Ann Arbor
Year Two – Monica and I together in Ann Arbor
Year Three – Monica in Ann Arbor and me in Chicago
Year Four – Monica and I together in Chicago
And then what? Upon graduation in those days, one went through a placement interview process that included two parts. Part one was the candidate (me) telling the committee of my preferences regarding what grades I would like to teach, what type of community I envisioned serving in, and where in the country (or world) I would like to serve. Part two was the committee comparing my answers with the requests that they had from congregations/schools requesting a graduate and then deciding where the teacher candidate would be placed. And that is where the candidate would go, for there really was a minimal (at best) opportunity to challenge or change their decision.
Facing the potential of being separated for another year and then having to pray that Monica would be placed at the same school as I had been the year before did not sound very good to us, so we came up with an alternative plan. Since from as early as I could remember I had been telling people, “I want to be a Lutheran school teacher … and maybe a principal someday,” I deferred placement and convinced the administration to allow me to enter immediately into graduate school (everyone else in the program had been already teaching for at least five years). Then we would work on being placed together upon Monica’s graduation.
As we were putting this plan together, we discovered that – quite accidentally – I could graduate early! In my lust for learning I had taken enough academic overloads (without ever attending summer school) to complete my undergraduate requirements in the second quarter of year four. I took my first graduate class that quarter and then took a full load in the spring quarter. By doing the same thing for the three quarters of the following academic year (while Monica got her Bachelor’s Degree) I was able to walk the stage with her as I was getting my Masters in School Administration.
While this worked well, there were two particular challenges we had to work through. First was the fact that, since the graduate program I was in was designed for people who were already teaching, all of the classes were in the evening. Each one would meet for three hours once a week, with extensive reading and homework in between. Fortunately I was able to find a way to schedule all of the classes in the program within our timeframe, though it meant I had to take four classes each week. This meant I had one class Monday evening, another on Tuesday evening, the third on Wednesday evening, and the fourth on Thursday evening. I would have had plenty of time to do all the reading and homework except for the second challenge.
My parents had very generously covered the cost of my undergraduate schooling; however I was not able to persuade them to continue their funding for year five. While attending River Forest my first two years I had worked a few hours each week helping a doctor and his wife around their house, both inside and outside. As I entered graduate school they decided to sell their home in River Forest and move into another one in the same community. They hired me – for forty hours a week – to pack things in one home and prepare things in the new home. As best as I can remember the move was completed about the same time as my graduate studies. This job, with the additional money I made at a gas station where I worked on weekends, covered my expenses.
This was a year where I worked harder than I had ever worked before – and perhaps ever since. My Monday through Thursday schedule was to work from eight until four, do homework as I fixed and/or ate dinner in the apartment, and then attend class from seven until ten. The two Paul’s with whom I shared the apartment were very understanding and helpful. I pumped gas on Friday and Saturday, while using these days and Sundays to spend time with Monica and complete the work required for my graduate classes. In the end I was able to graduate debt free.
When I look back today at that year, rather than thinking about the work I put in, I think of how God was at work through it all blessing me. He opened the door for me to enter graduate school and made it possible for me to schedule all of the necessary classes to gain my M.A. in the spring of 1976. He worked through Dr. and Mrs. Angel, the two Paul’s, Monica, and many others to pave the way for my survival. And by doing so he was preparing me for the way he had planned for me to be his servant in the years to come.
As we prepared for the placement interviews that spring, we realized there was one more obstacle that we faced. As mentioned earlier, both Monica and I had desired to become Lutheran school teachers from a very early age – way back in elementary school. However, we knew of a problem different couples from earlier years had run into. Though both were certified to teach and planning to marry each other, the male was placed in “Timbuktu” with no place for the female to teach (I don’t think they would get away with that today!). They would be left on their own to find employment for her. We did not want this to happen to us, so we requested that Monica be placed first, and then me. Our logic was that they would not want to allow a male teacher candidate to go unplaced.
However, this was 1976 and things were very different in those days. Because becoming a teacher had been a draft deferment, there were more teachers available than positions to be filled (believe it or not) in those days. We requested to be placed together in a small town in the Midwest. Monica received a call to teach first and second grades at St. Paul Lutheran in the Detroit suburb of Sterling Heights. However, they could not find a teaching position for me in the entire metro Detroit area.
About a month before July 31, I received a phone call from the placement office. While there still were no Lutheran schools in the area looking for a teacher, there was a church in the city of Detroit that was looking for a Director of Christian Education. And, though they had no school and I had not specifically been trained or certified as a D.C.E., they wanted me to interview for the position. The thought was that, since there was a shortage of D.C.E. graduates and I had my M.A. in administration, I might be able to fill the position.
I remember driving from Saginaw down I-75 to Eight Mile Road with a map on the passenger seat. The median of Eight Mile Road was lined with tall utility poles. On my right was the city of Detroit. To my left was Warren and a few other suburbs. I turned right on Kelly Road and drove about a mile and a half to Charity Lutheran Church on the corner of Kelly and Morang. There I met with Pastor Trautmann, and also spent some time with the church secretary, Lucille May.
Charity had had some problems with their previous D.C.E. so they had been somewhat hesitant in calling another one. However, the interview went well. A week or two later I received a call to serve as Charity’s D.C.E. – a call that I accepted immediately. I was installed on August 15 and the rest, as they say, is history.
God was again – or should I say, still – at work through it all blessing me. While I saw him blocking my life-long plan of becoming a Lutheran school teacher, he was unfolding his plan for me to use me in a different way. And not just for me, but for Monica as well … but that is another story.
And what is it they say about telling God your plans? It is probably better to consider his plans for us: “I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future,” declares the Lord (Jeremiah 29.11)