Jack Holder and the ParkwayHills Nine

Belinda and I awakened early on Saturday to take a drive south of Dallas to Limestone County.  I was born in this county, in Mexia, TX.  Just south of there is Groesbeck, TX, the county seat and... that is where we were headed!

We were traveling there to pay our respects to the family and memory of Jack Holder, a man I very much admired. In the early days of our calling to plant the ParkwayHills mission church, he and his wife, Mary Martha, signed on to be a part. I was thrilled because Jack was a key leader at Northway Baptist Church where we attended, and I knew that this decision would go a long way in encouraging others to come and help us as well.

What I didn't realize then was how close we had been to each other geographically for many years - without either of us knowing.  Jack was born in Ben Hur, Texas - and graduated from Mart High School (less than 20 miles, as the crow flies) south and west of where I spent the summers of my childhood.  However, I did not know Jack as a boy from Central Texas, but as a successful Christian businessman and lay leader of our church. He had chaired about every committee at Northway, and, in the latter days of his time there, had chaired our Long Range Planning Committee that looked into relocating us to the corner of Midway Road and FM 544 - the site our one-time mission, Prestonwood Baptist, eventually bought and moved to itself.  In short, Jack and Mary Martha's decision to come and help us was a real coup fo this young preacher - one called but, in so many of the world's ways, ill-qualified. So then, for our first year and and some change, Jack and Mary Martha Holder formed a part of what we came to affectionately refer to as the 'ParkwayHills Nine' - one couple of nine who'd come from Northway Baptist Church and signed on as we were first organizing - meaning, couples who agreed to tithe or, in short,  pay me a salary so we could begin. And now, there he was, Jack Holder, a man I admired and looked up to calling me pastor. WOW!

While driving down on Saturday I thought of a memory. One of a cold, rainy day in early March, 1989 - a week before our first service under a tent. I'd planned to hang door hangers on all the doors of the Bent Tree West neighborhood. However, as I was readying to do so, there came an awful rain storm leaving the task designed for many to just me - so it seemed.  But, that's when Jack Holder showed up. And, with umbrella and rain boots in tow, he said, "Come on Pastor, I'll hold our umbrella."

When Jack retired as the CFO at John Deere, still a relatively young man, he and Mary Martha decided to move back to the place of their roots - their home town and family farm outside of Mart, TX.  I was worried over him leaving.  He had been our first Board President, and formed much of what and whom we looked to for confidence and strength.  But, as he told me the news over breakfast, he looked at me to say, "Pastor, you will be fine."  God has this - and I am confident He will make it work as you remain faithful to Him."  Jack was right, of course.  God did have 'us' - all of us - and faithfulness was all He required.

So Belinda and I drove to Groesbeck last Saturday, then on out to a country cemetery plot with others who knew Jack well. We went to pay our respects to this man we loved. The first of our ParkwayHills Nine to go 'home'.  For that is where He is. He has passed on to the 'Land of the Living' to be with his Savior and Lord - and... we will see Him again!

https://www.groesbeckfuneralhome.com/obituary/jackie-jack-holder

Pastor Sam
Ephesians 3:20-21

Northway Church and the Long Hand of God

Northway Church, Dallas, October 2019, Photo by Mike Keith

My long time friend, Mike Keith, who grew up at Northway Baptist Church of Dallas, took this picture and others recently following a tornado that ripped across Dallas, Richardson and into Garland wreaking great havoc to property but, amazingly, taking no lives. Mike and I first met in the early 70s, while he was working as DJ at a radio station in Mexia Texas, the life-long home of my grandparents. My grandfather had introduced us, saying, "I have a young man I want you to meet.  I think you will like him." He was right.  I did.  And, as Mike and I talked that day, sharing stories of how two very hip young men might find themselves in the midst of the Mexia Texas culture, he spoke of his home church in Dallas and how, if "ever I was there I needed to look the church and his father, Bill Keith, up" - "a church and people who loved helping young people interested in serving the purposes of God." 

Northway Church, from Southeast to Northwest, Oct. 2019, Photo by Mike Keith

Well, fast-forward a few years, by the long and amazing hand of a providential God, I found myself a member of that very church, as yet unaware of the fact that it was the church Mike had told me about some 4 years earlier. It was an exciting place. And the church's pastor, Billy Weber, was leading the congregation in unparalleled growth reaching hundreds of young single adults - like myself - moving to Dallas to work their first jobs. When Mike posted his pictures on Facebook, in particular this one to the right, I could not help but recall a memory from the summer of 1976, just after my 26th birthday. For right where those yellow curbs are painted, I was sitting in the driver’s seat of a rented bus, one filled with children from a local neighborhood where I had gone to pick them up to bring them to the first day of Northway's Summer Vacation Bible School.  The bus was packed.  The kids were screaming.  And, outside its door stood our leader, Children's Minister Sondra Saunders, who had somehow cajoled me into this duty just hours before.

Like all the Northway staff, Sondra Saunders - who later became the children's minister of Prestonwood Baptist Church, leading that church to reach literally thousands of children for Christ - was hard-pressed to take no for an answer if/when she believed in something. And, on that Sunday preceding VBS, Sondra believed she needed more volunteers to drive buses and pick up kids the next day. So, she came to me and to many others - placing that sweet hand and pointer finger into my chest to say, "I need you to drive a bus"  "Tomorrow!"  How could I say no!  I was a musician, and my only commitment for the next morning was sleep.  So, I said, "yes."  To which she smiled then walked away adding one thing more - "Oh - and, if you don't mind, bring your guitar! I may need that too."

Larry Pinion, Sam Dennis, summer of 1976, photo taken by Billy Weber

From there, as they say, the real story begins.  For, when I pulled up in front of the church that morning with my bus load full of kids, Sondra came to the open door of my bus to say - "Sam, I'm sorry.  But we don't have enough room for these kids, yet!" "What?" Was my reply, as I sat in the bus looking at her incredulously.  "Don't worry, I just need some time."  Then added - 'did you bring your guitar?"And right then and there, on that memorable day, began my journey back. For not only did I sing and play for the children as they remained on my bus, I was asked to add a Bible lesson, too. And everyday thereafter, for VBS 1976, I did the same.  For Sondra, like she has for so many others down through the years, became the instrument of God's calling on my life.  I had served in churches before - using my 'talents' many times over.  But, this time, things seemed different.  The faces of the children, the press of the crowd, reminded me of what it must have been like when Jesus walked the earth.  When people clamored to see Him, and 'His Followers' would try to 'protect' His time.  But this would not be so for Christ, who seemed to always find time for those wanting to see Him. For I learned that day, as broken as I was, Christ could still - and would - use even me.  And that the key to His doing so was not me at all, but Him. That I would and could be used by Him when, and only when, I would be faithful in bringing people to Jesus. That was Sondra's way - and it was the way of Northway Baptist Church for as far back as then till now.

For I very strongly suspect that Northway church, which for now is meeting somewhere else, will return to this site one day soon.  And, like all churches God chooses to use, she well knows that the loving hand of God truly is... long! 

Behold, the Lord's hand is not shortened, that it cannot save, or his ear dull, that it cannot hear." Isaiah 59:11

Indeed,

Pastor Sam

"The Church Story, Daddy"

When Belinda was pregnant with our son, Trey, she was put to bedrest, then hospitalized at 19 weeks.  Staying on the 5th floor of Presbyterian Hospital of Dallas, she was there for 8 long weeks while Taylor and I carried on at home as best we could.

It was November of 1992.  I was in seminary, and had started a mission congregation in West Plano that was now nearly 3 years since beginning. As the Holidays approached I frankly was struggling. Our mission church of 50 or so was not growing.  No one was visiting, just our faithful handful. I was broke, tired, and probably a little depressed. My wife, who was everything to me, was in the hospital fighting against odds to give birth to a son she believed God had already given us. I was spent. As a man who valued providing for his family a matter of highest duty and personal honor and worth, I felt I had led them down a road doomed to failure. Yet, in spite of how I really felt, I was trying my best to keep a ‘stiff upper lip’.  I had to care for our 7 year old daughter, Taylor, attend my classes at seminary and somehow pastor our small church of wonderful people who looked to me for inspiration as their leader.

On Thanksgiving Day I loaded Taylor in our old suburban, and, with food given by faithful friends, headed to the Hospital to share a Thanksgiving meal with Taylor and my wife.  We spent the afternoon with Belinda confined to her bed, and I watched as Taylor climbed into the bed with her Mom - wanting desperately to be near her, wishing I could too. As I gazed at them I finally had to turn my head and hold back bitter tears. Belinda and I had already lost 3 babies, and the odds of the same not happening again – at least in my mind at that moment - were not favorable.  

After our meal, I brought up to the room a small Christmas tree I’d loaded earlier into the Suburban.  Taylor and I decorated it as Mom watched and gave us instruction. We placed it on the window ledge, plugged in the lights, then sat for a while and looked upon it, trying our best to make the most of the day. Then, when time came to go, Taylor and I sadly said our good-byes to make our way outside.  Driving my truck onto Walnut Hill Lane that night we came quickly to the railroad tracks in front of the Hospital, where I stopped so that Taylor and I could look up at Mom’s window one more time to see our lights and the tree.  As we did neither of us said a word – driving the rest of the way home in silence – strange for us both.

When back home in Carrollton, I went straight to the task of putting Taylor to bed. Our usual routine was my giving her a choice, whether to read a story to her or tell one.  Like most children her age, Taylor had her favorites - and I secretly hoped for a short one so that I could get back to the work of studying for Sunday and for class. She replied, “Tell me the church story tonight, Daddy.” I looked at her quizzically for that wasn’t a name for any I could recall. Thinking she just could not remember, I asked, “What Church story, baby?” – fully expecting her to simply describe one I had told before.  But, to my surprise, Taylor said – “you know, Daddy, the Church Story.” “The one you tell us at church all the time.” “How one day we will have a building of our own, and how people will come from all around and fill our new church, just as God promised.” I was taken aback.  Taylor, like so many others in our small mission, had been listening. And now, via a gentle nudge from above, this discouraged preacher was being spoken to by God through a means only He could plan – the preacher’s child.  Holding back my own tears I repeated the familiar words. “One day,”  I said, “God will accomplish the vision He has given. We will have a church building of our own. We will no longer meet in the school, and we will be able to come into our building any day we want. The church will be filled with people from our community.  And we will have baptisms and worship services and a parking lot that is filled.” As I finished the story and looked down at Taylor, tears were rolling down my cheeks.  I wiped them away, tucked her covers in close, then leaned down to kiss her goodnight.  “And Mommy will come, and Baby Trey, too.”  Won’t that be fun, Dad? “ “Yes, baby, it will!”  

When I got up from beside her bed, I walked into my room and fell to my knees beside my own bed.  “Oh God”, I cried. “Please forgive me for my own lack of faith.” “Help me to trust you more. To believe in your words to me. And in my times of unbelief, O God, help me even then." “Take away my bitterness and fill me with hope. " “I thank you God for all you are doing - even now." "And I thank you for the 'Church Story', most of all.”  

That is now a long time ago but I can remember it as yesterday. It was a turning point for me. From a hard worker, who trusted in God only as far as I could go, to a servant of the KING - ready to trust God for as far as He could go. Trey was eventually born on December 20, 1992.  He was 27 weeks as at his birth - and weighed less than 3 lbs. but, in March of 1993, thanks to the wonderful and amazing care of the NICU unit of Presbyterian Hospital of Dallas, he came home to be with us and today stands 6 feet tall.

In February of 1994, our church, The ParkwayHills Baptist Church of Plano, completed construction of its first building and - on a cold but glorious Sunday - held our first service there. On the morning of that very day, I took Taylor with me early – to stand on the parking lot with me so she might see the cars driving up and all the people walking in. As we stood there together, I turned to her to say – “it’s the Church Story, Baby.’ And she added, “just like you said.”   

The same God who sent us His Son so that we might have our sins forgiven and know Him, is also the God who gives us hope for both eternity and for our now.  He gives dreams and visions, most often concerning the things He will accomplish through us, His church, as we are faithful to walk where He leads. And often, yes… quite, quite often, in our hours of testing, distress, and discouragement, He sends us a Word in the smallest yet largest of ways least expected - to encourage us and help us to carry on.  For He is our great God - and there is no other - capable of more than we can ever think, dream or imagine.

Indeed,

Pastor Sam
Eph. 3: 20-21

A Visit with Mom and Psalm 139

It's really not possible to convey how I feel effectively,  but I will try.  Tonight I went to see Mom in the Rehab/Nursing Center in Carrolton, TX., where she has been for nearly 3 weeks.  After a bout with pneumonia, and her severely weakened condition due to an increasing lack of mobility, Mom needed help in getting back to her home in the The Colony, where she lives with my sister and brother-in-law. Needless to say, it's been a 'long row to hoe', but tonight I saw progress in her alertness and attitude. And it was good!

As we sat and visited I thought about all the years of like conversations and memories surrounding my life with Mom. Though now suffering from age related dementia, she is amazingly quite sharp regarding the past, so that memory sharing with her can be fun.  As we visited I found her recounting the last 45 to 50 years with incredible accuracy. We laughed and spoke quietly, in the contented back and forth way family members sometimes do, and she reminisced about Dad, now gone for 30 years, and how she loved him.

Before I was to leave, I asked Mom if she would like me to read from her Bible. I hold fond memories of her doing this for me and my sisters when we were young.  She said, "I'd like that," so I chose David's Psalm 139.

O Lord, you have searched me and known me!

2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up;

    you discern my thoughts from afar.

3 You search out my path and my lying down

    and are acquainted with all my ways.

4 Even before a word is on my tongue,

    behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.

5 You hem me in, behind and before,

    and lay your hand upon me.

6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;

    it is high; I cannot attain it.

'What do you think of that, Mom?'  

"It's pretty. Very comforting." 

'Yes it is.'  (pause)  'Mom?"

"Yes"

'What did you think when I was born?' 'What were you thinking?' 'Do you remember?'

"Well, I was only 19.  But I thought you were the prettiest thing I'd ever seen."  "And I loved you."  "I love you now."  

'And I love you, Mom.  But think of this, God loves us both.'  And every day of our lives, every thought that we have had - he knows it, and... still He loves us, even more than you and I love each other.'  

What do you think of that?'  

Well, that's pretty neat."  

'Yes, Mom, it certainly is.' 

Where shall I go from your Spirit?

    Or where shall I flee from your presence?

8 If I ascend to heaven, you are there!

    If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!

9 If I take the wings of the morning

    and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,

10 even there your hand shall lead me,

    and your right hand shall hold me.

11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,

    and the light about me be night,”

12 even the darkness is not dark to you;

    the night is bright as the day,

    for darkness is as light with you.

13 For you formed my inward parts;

    you knitted me together in my mother's womb.

14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.[a]

Wonderful are your works;

    my soul knows it very well.

15 My frame was not hidden from you,

when I was being made in secret,

    intricately woven in the depths of the earth.

16 Your eyes saw my unformed substance;

in your book were written, every one of them,

    the days that were formed for me,

    when as yet there was none of them.

There are things we cannot know in this world.  How long we might live or how those days will look for us are two of those things. The folks in El Paso and Dayton Ohio suffering horrible tragedy and loss yesterday are testimony to this.  But one thing we can know - God knows us, loves us and He has known us even before we were yet formed. According to David, who knew what it was like to suffer and to celebrate, then taught us through his very human life what worship of God was to be; according to David, God's thoughts of us are far reaching, even to the 'uttermost parts of the  sea' - which was simply a ancient metaphor for the most feared and least understood places humans might experience. In other words, even through the depths of a crazed hate-filled gunman, a terrorist attack, or the singular, un-romantic but common pain of old age, He has known us and will continue to know us, the pinnacle of his creation, forever!  

Lofty terms?  Perhaps in this world they do seem so. For our world often screams it is under no control - no sense of God's knowledge or care. But, as Mom closed her eyes and I passed from her room into the hall, I knew otherwise. These words from the heart of David were truth. Truth for the 19 year old who first held me as a babe in a town called Mexia 69 years ago, and for the 88 year old laying in bed with the same boy, now grayed and changed himself, looking on.  

17 How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!

    How vast is the sum of them!

18 If I would count them, they are more than the sand.

Search me, O God, and know my heart!

    Try me and know my thoughts!

24 And see if there be any grievous way in me,

    and lead me in the way everlasting!

Good night, Mom! 

Pastor Sam 

The Gift of Laughter

I have been busy. Way too busy.  But when Belinda asked me recently if I'd heard about the passing of comedian, Tim Conway, I paused. Now here's some news I should take time with. "You know...  he made us laugh," I said.

As I've thought about this since, I have mused over the fact that laughter really is a marvelous thing. Especially when coming to us sans putting others down. As well, it is something far too underrated and sorely, so sorely needed. Even Harvey Korman as a 'patient' could not keep from laughing as Tim Conway, his 'Dentist,' attempted to administer to him a shot of novocaine from his wayward needle. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nF_C3bO8WZ0 And how can we forget Tim's famous 'fall of the 'Old Man' down the stairs? That was the longest timed fall time ever recorded on TV, and with hilarious results. Yes, Conway did make us laugh, and considering his gift of such has prompted in me food for a thought or two.

Proverbs 17:22 reads: A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.

And though we may not know all that might be known about the collection of wisdom shared by King Solomon, we do know this - God gave it and saw to it being written down and preserved for us.

Yes, when I think back over my ministry of these 40 plus years, it has been laughter and joy that I remember most. Oh, sure there were difficult days, even days of great challenge that stand out, but my mind runs more towards the smiles now. Such as the day Ed Hayes set off the fire sprinkler's over Miss Debbie's office, or the Sunday Matt Dildine tried to pull me under the water as I baptized him. Or, how about the day Paula Michel entertained the staff with head stands as we sat in the hall waiting out a lock down due to a tornado watch at the church?  And those... well, those are just a few! 

My pastor mentor, Bob Norman, taught me many things - but one thing I learned from him is that to laugh is to love and to love is to laugh. He took the high road not the toad road - and made joy his everyday choice. Watching him I discovered that no matter the news there was always a good news story somewhere, and that this story was worth hearing more than all the rest. He saw to it that happy stories stayed at the fore. One of my favorite memories of him came when a new  - and very large - copier was delivered to our Northway Church. After installation the empty box it had been delivered in sat in the hallway outside our offices. So, seizing the moment, Bob decided this was a perfect opportunity for some fun and climbed into the box and cried out softly, "Help me!" "That's right, you!" as people passed by. You can just imagine the fun.  

So I say 'thank you' to Tim Conway and 'yes' to more laughter! For a merry heart really is good medicine.  Plus this - our children need us to laugh. If we don't, how else will they learn?  Perhaps all that will be left is a humor turned cruel, disdainful, and one only at the expense of others. And I, for one, want to do all I can to see this is not so. 

So, from this pastor to you,  how about some...

Love and laughter, always! 

Pastor Sam 

March 26, 2019 - Thirty Years of Memory, Mission and Joy

I have started writing today's blog no less that 5X over the last few days, stopping short with each try. Why? Well, frankly, it is hard to put into words - at least a few words - all I am feeling as I look back over the last years, which began this very day now thirty years ago.

The night before, on March 25, 1989, Paul Abney and Bill Richardson had sent the other men home (Scott Olivier, Kyle Gooch, Jack Holder and others) then they prepared themselves to spend the night protecting the small, 'borrowed' sound system, pulpit and chairs. The next day was Easter Sunday, and it was our new church's first first service. We'd pitched a tent at the Northeast Corner of Frankford and Midway Roads, directly behind the Chevron station. By permission we were borrowing from their electricity, running an extension cord from the station to our tent. Less than 1/4 mile away, the Bent Tree West Clubhouse had also been prepped. Several of our families lived in the community, so it was made ready to be used by us to house our children's Sunday School and worship the next day, as well. As the sun set all seemed ready. I gathered with those few remaining to pray, then drove to my home for a sleepless night anticipating all that the morrow might bring.

The next day, March 26, I wakened to a cloud-filled sky. I dressed and left home quickly, telling Belinda I needed to get to the site early, to check on things, then drove toward our tent in rain. I was worried. Would anyone come to our new church? What would we do? Those who'd arrived early with me kept looking up at the sky, hopeful. The rain, though not hard, was steady. It was Easter all right, but - in truth - it was a dreary, cold, rainy day. Not the kind of day I'd hoped for at all. But then... that's when the miracle happened!

One by one cars began driving onto our lot. Our parents - all of them - had come to be with us, swelling our crowd to over 100 worshippers. As people drove onto the muddied grass Tom Herman waved folks up close - to the tents entrance - then walked each one into our tent safely under his huge umbrella. He then returned to each of the cars, parking them one by one. People were smiling. Giddy with excitement over our beginning. Then a word, making its way from the Club House, was sent to me from our workers there. Our children were "having a blast!" "Mary Martha Holder was teaching them songs about Jesus," and they 'couldn't be having more fun.' When I think back over that day now, I can but recall one thing and one thing only - how perfect the day was and what precious memories it still brings.

But, on Saturday last I watched as members of our new mission gathered -really for much of the same - and a new memory was formed. As before, the sky was cloudy and plans for planting new shrubs and cleaning out the basement of the church-house to make ready for the children to come were being challenged by threat of rain and drizzle to boot. But, in the same way, I observed much of what I'd witnessed 30 years before. People were all smiles, and filled with the excitement and hope that comes from getting ready for our next day - the LORD"S Day, Sunday, March 24 at... The Church at Junius Heights.

So, yes, it is hard to put into words how I feel as I think over the last 30 years. Certainly, precious memories are Belinda's and my great treasures, and our joy. But, tonight, as I think over it all, I must add that our greatest gift has actually been just watching YOU. Seeing you - those whom we have come to know in countless visits, meetings, projects and missions - as you have accepted the call of Christ to serve His Kingdom for His glory alone. Some we've known are now called 'home'. And we know we will see them again - in heaven. Yet others of you remain - at ParkwayHills, at The Church at Junius Heights and at many, many other places along our way.  

And yes, the mission and memories go on.  For this coming Sunday I will baptize once again - in a baptismal tank that is borrowed. Good people, serving people, will drive to get it and bring it to an old building nearly 100 years old, then set it down on a spot where a church has stood since 1911. Then these good folk will fill it, likely doing so with great smiles. Are the people the same? Why, yes, indeed they are! The very same! They are people who are on mission - called by God to serve the purposes of God and God alone. For the gospel, indeed, is for everyone - that whosever will may come. And us?  Well, we are the ones - the called out ones - who are calling out the called. And, as for it all, I am grateful that B and I have been around to see this much of it - in fact quite a lot of it - over the last 30 years and through people like you.   

Yours for memories, mission and joy - 


Pastor Sam
Ephesians 3:20-21

What Is Lent?

https://thechurchatjuniusheights.org/blog/2019/3/5/so-what-is-lent