Renewing the Mind: Chuck Swindoll agrees with me!!

I knew someone else thought like me; I didn't know Chuck Swindoll would be the one. Every morning I receive via the internet, three different devotionals; Swindoll, Stanley and Sproul. Below is Swindoll's thoughts for the day.

Personally I don't like the "D" word; Diet which means depriving yourself of tasty things to eat. I do like the word diet which means, "the great foods that I get to eat". One says, "you can't eat this or that food... and while you are at it.... keep track of every calorie you consume"- the other says, "you can eat all these super foods and eat as much as you want- you can have a 'full' feeling all the time." It is easier to stay on track when you don't feel deprived!

That Dreaded "D" Word
by Charles R. Swindoll

1 Corinthians 6:12-20

Okay, folks . . . it's that time again. I'm down to two suits, one sports coat, and only a couple of pants that I can squeeze into. No more excuses. I'm tired of good intentions, secret promises to myself, groans and grunts as I roll out of bed in the morning, and especially those well-meaning comments from first-time visitors at our church: "You look . . . uh . . . different than I expected." I suppose that's better than "You look . . . uh . . . fat."

Funny thing about being overweight . . . it's impossible to hide it. So the alternatives are (a) ignore it and lie to yourself by saying nobody notices, (b) make jokes about it, (c) try to solve the problem overnight—which is tempting but dumb, or (d) face the music and get underway with a long-range plan that works.

For me, it's an intelligent diet (ugh!) mixed with a program of regular exercise and a do-or-die mind-set that is determined to see it through, followed by a from-now-on game plan that is realistic, workable, and consistent.

Personally, I don't need a shrink to shrink. But what I do need is discipline with a big D. (It might also help me a lot to think of rewards other than a strawberry sundae.) You know what I'm getting at, don't you? If I intend to avoid great widths, I need to go to great lengths to make that happen. And if you are put together somewhat like I am, you do too.

So why am I telling you all this? It would be much easier and certainly less embarrassing for me to say nothing, eat little, exercise in obscurity, and start to shrink. I did that once before and it worked. Problem was, when I got down to my desired weight, a rumor spread that I had cancer. Cynthia even got a sympathy card or two. So . . . none of that.

I'm mentioning it because I need to be accountable and we need to be reminded of the importance of our physical appearance. While there is an overemphasis on this in the secular world, for some strange reason, we Christians tend to underestimate its importance. Yet our bodies are indeed the "temple of the Holy Spirit" and we are to "glorify God" in those bodies (1 Cor. 6:19-20).

So, let's get serious about something we've ignored or excused or joked about long enough. As for me, I've got about forty pounds to go. How about you?

Have you looked in the mirror lately? Could the Spirit's temple stand a little attention to get it back where it ought to be?

Excerpted from Day by Day with Charles Swindoll, Copyright © 2000 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. (Thomas Nelson Publishers). All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.

Since January, 2010, I have changed the way I look at food; instead of filler, I see food as fuel. Thanks to my good friend, Josh Denhart, his advice about eating power foods has changed my life. At the end of 2009, I was a dead man walking around in a 250 pound body that had little zip left in it. I was under motivated, lacked much brain power, and I felt like I looked- fat and lethargic!

Spinach: Can't eat enough of this power food!!

When I changed my mind about food, I began to lose weight. I didn't exercise one single minute over the past 7 months- exercise... meaning walking, riding stationary bike, etc... activities that took you to no place. Throughout these last seven months, I have become more active- but it was productive work-lifting lumber, climbing ladders, walking to the shop to pick up a tool; losing 50 pounds from the stomach generates energy and drive that allows a once fat man to get out and start moving again.

I hope over the next few months to blog a bit about my "changing of my mind" diet. I have become a "food evangelists" who wants others to enjoy their lives again. Good eatin' my friends!

Written by:

Earl Taylor

Director of Design and Vision at Hidden Acres Christian Center, near Dayton, Iowa. Hidden Acres is owned by the Central District of the Evangelical Free Church, and is a summer camp and retreat facility with 660 acres of land and 850 beds to welcome guests.

Hidden Acres Tractor Ride

Come Join Us or Tell Your Grandpa to Join Us


The Hidden Acres 1st Annual Tractor Ride will be held on August 23-25, 2010. This Tractor Ride will be a great event of fun, fellowship, food, and riding!

Each day there will be a route to that will take you and your tractor on a scenic tour of Central Iowa’s rural area. Accommodations will include lodge style lodging, meals, and use of the camp’s activity facilities.

We will have you park your tractors for display when you come back onto the camp grounds every day. There will be speakers each evening for you to listen to including Bill Northey, Iowa’s Secretary of Agriculture! He will even be out on the route for one of the days! For registration information feel free to call our offices at 515-547-2751 or visit our website at www.hacamps.org. Participants will receive one free T-shirt per registration.

For those who wish not to ride, but would like to attend the Tuesday evening meal and message by Bill Northey, please contact the camp for your reservations.

We Need to Pray

The Riverside Bandshell of La Crosse

There are many things that I have learned from Dave Martin's life as I heard him recount story after story of God's faithfulness in all situations. At every church or in every ministry opportunity that Dave and Carol were given, they gave it their all. Here is just another slice of his life as we remember so fondly his words of encouragement, his tenacity, his vision, and his can-do spirit that was evident in all things he did over his 60 years in ministry.

Sunday nights at the park

“Our little church in La Crosse, Bethany Evangelical Free, had 176 very uncomfortable theater seats. On a Sunday morning we would average around 50 or 60 people the first year I was there. I wasn’t happy or content with that number.” Dave set out to develop some growth.

It was acceptable to experiment a bit on Sunday nights; Sunday morning was off limits: Dave set out to make their Sunday evening better attended through some innovative programming.

The early 70’s was also the beginning of a revival that swept the entire nation: The Jesus Movement. It hit La Crosse also. The Christian Ladies Club began to swell, and it spilled over into Dave’s Sunday night service. With Carol on the piano, and Dave leading music, there was life in the church, and the women of La Crosse loved what they found at Bethany and brought their entire family. People were getting saved every Sunday night, “In spite of me, people were coming to know the Lord. I couldn’t keep up with all the new conversions and the counseling. Everything was moving very fast.” Dave recalls

“After a while, I knew I wanted to try to get our Sunday evening service broadcast live on radio. I contacted the local station KTY: they were willing to try this new format for three or four Sunday evenings. This was another one of the keys of the Sunday night growth; after a short period on the radio, the station manager knew he had a hit program.”

It wasn’t long before the Sunday night crowd of 40 grew until all 176 seats were taken.. Dave declared, “We need to move outside for Sunday nights.” The church board couldn’t argue with Dave; their little church was busting at the seams each and every Sunday night, so they let Dave go ahead with his plans.

Along the Mississippi, there was a park with a band stand and permanent wooden benches. Dave knew this would be a great place to set up his Sunday evening extravaganza. Dave had already had experience with live TV performances, and he knew the results of broadcasting from back at church; the radio station manager agreed to come to the park with his equipment and broadcast the summer evening service.

“The first week we had a good crowd, but as we continued to broadcast, more and more people would show up. Some would not leave their cars, but would park along the Mississippi River, and listen to the evening service on their car radios.” Dave caught on, and would announce live through the radio, “All of you folks listening across the river on the Minnesota side, blink your lights if you can hear us." They heard and they blinked. Dave told the audience, “Sing for the folks across the river… the louder the people sang, the more the cars blinked!”

It was a chore to get set up. Every Sunday afternoon, Dave would take one of his girls over to the church. Dave’s van would be backed up to the lower level and the Sunday school spinet piano would be wheeled out and hoisted into the van. Dave had a system where he needed just one girl, usually Ruth or Bethany to drive the van into place. Dave would lift one end onto the van, while the daughter would put pressure from the back. Dave would then lift the other end up and roll the piano forward. The opposite would happen at the park.

Before long, one of the head men of the church could see that this event was beginning to cost the church a few dollars to put on, so he began to complain. He took his complaint all the way to Superintendent Smith who had recommended Dave to the Bethany Church. “We don’t know what to do with this Dave Martin whom you sent to us. He is bankrupting the church with his $35 expenditure to have his evening services broadcast.”

The superintendent replied, “Arnold, you let him do this, and if necessary, I will pay the $35 myself.” This seemed to quiet the frugal, shortsighted elder.

The evening services swelled. There were over 600 people coming from miles around to this new type of old style tent-type of meeting. The Enthusiastics were regular singers; the Martin girls sang, Carol played the piano, Dave preached and did chalk drawings. Sunday mornings picked up too.

Over the years, the church exploded to over 600 people. By 1976, a new church was built to hold the enlarged crowds.

By 1978, the Sunday evening church in the park was a mainstay in the community. For 7 years, there had not been a rain storm that would cancel the event, until the last month Dave was in La Crosse.

“It was pouring buckets late that Sunday afternoon and early evening. The service was to begin at 7, and it was still raining at 6:30. People were calling and asking, “Is it cancelled?” Dave was adamant, “No, we will have it. We need to pray.”

“At 6.45 the sky parted, light came down, and we unloaded the piano from the van. The evening service was on, and the crowd showed up.”

Dave left La Crosse that year, and the service in the park fizzled. People still remember those great nights and talk about the blinking of the car lights across the river. God is so Good.... to WE!

Hidden Acres Missions Trip to Mexico

We have talked about this for years; on Saturday, our vision of sending summer staff on a post-summer camp mission's trip became a reality. Nine counselors and Katie Northey our program director loaded up the van and headed south: they will be joining another former counselor, Sam Hanson, who with his wife and her family run an existing camp 7 hours into Mexico. Hidden Acres staff will come along side this camp and provide staff for 2 weeks of summer camp.

As we sent them off, we encouraged them to "make us proud" and to remember who they represent. We also reminded them that the success of this adventure will determine the future of Hidden Acre's mission's trips. We are already planning to partner with the Free Church in Congo to help them build a camp. It is our prayer that we would be able to send another group of counselors next July to Congo to help them run their camps.

For those who have taken a short term mission's trip; it is life changing experience and you understand the value. Pray for safety and for a fruitful ministry for these 10 young people. My prayer is that each of them will catch a vision of future ministry opportunities for their lives and that because of this trip, they would recieve the "call".

Picture of the Week

Karen Gordon, Wendy Gordon Kies, Earl, Chuck Gordon along with Jennifer Gordon George and Lisa Gordon on the floor. What a treat to see 5 former counselors return to camp this weekend to use the new Inn and bring their entire family for a reunion. Every time I see a former counselor, it always brings much joy to me as I remember back on their particular years at camp.

We have finished all 27 rooms as of today; there is a little work to finish on the downstairs hallway, and the project will be complete. It is a super place to have your summer family reunion.

Picture of the Week

350 men and their sons will invade Hidden Acres this weekend for our 20th 24 Hours with the Guys retreat. Pray for safety and that the Lord would work in the hearts of each man. This is our biggest evangelistic outreach of the year for adults. We love this weekend.

The Sky was Quiet

I had arrived in southwest Colorado on September 3, after a quick trip to Romania and a very demanding summer of ministry. I was frazzled inside and out. There was no drive: no push left in me. I wanted and needed the quiet of the mountain to restore my soul.

During those 11 days, I soaked in the beauty of the nearby stream full of cutthroat trout. I saw herds of elk roll off one mountain seeking isolation and security on the other side of the valley. The magpies were greedy and demanded any extra morsels of bread or snacks. I saw a lighting storm explode a nearby pine into splinters. I was blessed and harvested a bull elk with my bow.

Hunting was hard work; there were four of us who had packed all of our gear on our backs the four miles into a wilderness area. We rose from our tents in the dark; pumped and purified our stream water in the dark; ate our oatmeal breakfast in the dark, hunted and walked all day; and fixed our freeze-dried supper in the dark without the aid of a campfire. We cooked our food in one small aluminum pan over a portable propane stove. Our routine lasted for eleven days. We had no company; nobody checked on us; nobody knew where we were.

The skies were quiet for three days and I didn’t understand it. Watching the jet tailings were part of my hunt as I waited on elk; looking into the sky and watching jets traveling east or west passed the time. I never saw a jet on my last three days on the mountain.

Three days had passed since 9/11 when I walked out of the wilderness: calmed, refreshed, and renewed. I walked into civilization; my first stop was a local restaurant to get real food. I sat stunned as I ate and watched the replays of the jets hitting the World Trade buildings.

I was man scared: without a shriek or a scream; it was more of a long drawn out sigh that anticipated the worse was yet to come. I felt torn apart inside as I tried to make sense of what had happened: terrorists, Bin Laden, President Bush, the rubble and deaths.

As I drove across I-80, stopping in towns like Ogallala, Grand Island, and Bellevue, I saw the fear and uncertainty in every face I met. I heard the stories from gas station clerks of the stranded flyers who had hitched a ride across country with a stranger. There was a silent understanding that another attack could be eminent.

I missed President Bush’s first evening speech, "Today, our fellow citizens, our way of life, our very freedom came under attack in a series of deliberate and deadly terrorist acts. Terrorist attacks can shake the foundations of our biggest buildings, but they cannot touch the foundation of America. These acts shatter steel, but they cannot dent the steel of American resolve. The search is underway for those who are behind these evil acts...we will make no distinction between the terrorists who committed these acts and those who harbor them." Before sleeping that night, President Bush entered into his journal: "The Pearl Harbor of the 21st century took place today...We think it's Osama bin Laden."

I drove the 800 miles back home numbed. Much of my fear was second-hand fear. Thankfully, I heard in my heart time and time again as I was swept back into life from the mountain, “ The same quietness, peace, and rest you found on the mountain is the same quiet, peace, and rest you can find now in me.”

My thoughts are not your thoughts about September 11th; I didn’t experience the watching of the first 72 hours of uncertainty and unrest, developing minute by minute, detail by detail. God quieted the skies for those few days; He still quiets the heart of men when storms and fears come our way.

Written by
Earl Taylor
Director of Design and Vision
Hidden Acres Christian Center
...a youth camp and adult retreat center owned by the Evangelical Free churches of Iowa, South Dakota, and Missouri

Picture of the Week

Counselors are being hired. Campers are sending in their registrations. We are expecting another great summer of ministry. Join us as we minister to over 2000 campers through the lives of 150 summer staff. God is so good!

Mantle, Martin and Mays

The greatest center fielder: Dave Martin

I am ready to hear an umpire yell... "you're out", or at least see a little green grass. I thought this story about our good friend Dave Martin and baseball would warm your heart! (as told to me)

“I always wanted to play ball,” remembers Dave Martin. “When I was younger, I signed up for every team that was playing in town: basketball, softball, or baseball. I played center fielder in high school. When I grew older, I organized a softball team just so I could continue to play.”

“I was out of college and getting ready to start work when I got my notice to report to take my army aptitude test. It was to test my intelligence and identify my abilities. I just wanted to coach and didn’t see how a stint in the army would enhance my career opportunities.”

It was 1951, and the Korean War was going strong. I arrived to take my test only to find another budding sports star was to sit right behind me. They lined us up alphabetically, so Martin was in front of Mays. Willie Mays, playing triple A ball for the Minneapolis Millers. Mays kept whispering over my shoulder, “How you do dat’ Martin?” Mays passed the test and was drafted in the army after finishing his first season with the Brooklyn Giants. Dave reflects, “I often wondered if I hadn’t of helped him, perhaps he would have flunked and wouldn’t have been drafted. Perhaps he would have played two more years in the majors. And perhaps in those two years, he would have hit enough home runs to eclipse Ruth’s record before Hank Aaron. It is just a thought I have once in a while.”


Willie Mays

I preferred to go to the Army like Mays, but the Marines drafted me that year. Though a fine specimen, I knew I wasn’t Marine material. I was in shape enough to make it through basic, but I was placed behind a typewriter for the two years in service.

That same year I watched a triple A budding star from Kansas City play the Minneapolis triple A team. Mickey Mantle was playing against Mays. Martin was stuck in the Marines, and Mantle and Mays went on to be become Hall of Famer’s as center fielders and hitters.

Mantle and Mays made history and wrote their name in the archives of baseball history. Mantle hit 536 home runs. Mantle still has the record for the longest home run ever hit. Mays finished his career with 660 home runs, finishing third on the all time home run race.

Martin made the record book too.

At Hector Minnesota, Dave batted 1000% by leading the church from a small, struggling congregation into a growing and healthy church. He led countless people to the Lord, and began his live Sunday afternoon television program that included his 6 daughters singing, his wife playing the piano, and Dave preaching.

At Lacrosse Wisconsin, Dave batted 1000% by leading the Evangelical Free Church into tremendous growth. He began a youth choir of over a 100 kids during the 60’s; many of the kids the church had given up on because of their radical look and hair style of the late 60’s. Dave shaped this rag-tag group of young people into an award winning group of singers that traveled the United States singing and giving their testimonies

At Glenview Evangelical Free Church in Chicago Dave batted 1000%, by giving his all to this metropolitan church. The church grew, Dave became a national figure in the Evangelical Free Church, and his family of six girls were maturing and all heading into ministry opportunities.

In Iowa, Dave finished up his working career, batting a 1000% as the District Superintendent of the Evangelical Free Churches. He started a church planting program that was modeled across the nation in other Evangelical Free Church districts.

Dave is still batting 1000%. He beat off a fierce battle with a stroke and overcame a weakened heart. He is still at the plate, winning life’s game every day. Touching lives and still hearing the calls from the plate, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Mickey Mantle

“Your name may not appear down here
In this world’s Hall of Fame
In fact, you may be so unknown
That no one knows your name;

The headlines here may pass you by,
The neon light of blue,
But if you love and serve the Lord,
Then I have news for you.

This Hall of Fame is only good
As long as time shall be;
But keep in mind, God’s Hall of Fame
Is for eternity.

This crowd on earth they soon forget
The heroes of the past.
They cheer like mad until you fail
And that’s how long you last.
But in God’s Hall of Fame
By just believing on His Son
Inscribed you’ll find your name.

I tell you, friend, I wouldn’t trade
My name, however small,
That’s written there beyond the stars
In that Celestial Hall,
For any famous names on earth,
Or glory that it shares;
I’d rather be an unknown here
And have my name up there.”
Poem read by Bobby Richardson at Mickey Mantle’s funeral in 1995

May’s divorced and was on the verge of bankruptcy in the 60’s. He retired from the Met’s in 1973. Both Mantle and Mays were banned from baseball for two years because they worked as greeters for a casino in Atlantic City. Mantle had a liver transplant in 1995, and was diagnosed with cancer during the operation. He died shortly after, but not before making a confession to his good friend, Bobby Richardson, that he accepted Jesus Christ as his Savior and Lord. Mays is still alive and promotes the sport of baseball.

Mantle, Martin, and Mays. No doubt, three great center fielders; and one great servant of God.

Written by:
Earl Taylor, Design and Vision Director
Hidden Acres Christian Center, Dayton, Iowa
www.hiddenacrescamp.blogspot.com
...a youth camp and adult retreat center owned by the Evangelical Free Churches of Iowa, South Dakota, and Missouri

Picture of the Week

Holding on for the Ride of their Lives; two middle school retreaters are enjoying their wild ride down the 200 foot toboggan run at Hidden Acres.

Nearly 1100 middle school campers have enjoyed their weekend at Hidden Acres. The Central District Student Ministry team(youth pastors) has provided 4 great weekends of fun, fellowship and teaching at camp. We are grateful for their leadership and their commitment.

DeDe and Earl- The Future!

"DeDe forgive me, this was too true to pass up!"


www.hiddenacrescamp.blogspot.com

Picture of the Week

I don’t need ABC, NBC, CBS weathermen to tell me Spring is close: I saw it on the road this morning: a dead skunk!

You heard it from me… the skunks are out of hibernation which can mean only one thing: the spring thaw is close at hand. Put away your coats, turn down your thermostat, pull out the fishing pole, and hide your shovels. Spring is on the horizon. For years I have watched this phenomenon, and it is fool proof; better than the ugly, hairy varmint of a groundhog who appears to be all show and with unpredictable results.

Thinking warm thoughts and watching out for skunks!

My 36 inch Parrot

I have a grandson who is four and says and does nearly everything I do. I hunt, he wants to hunt. I fish, he wants to fish. I mow the yard, he wants to get on the mower. I speak a word, he repeats it. It didn’t take me long to see this 36 inch parrot was soaking me up and swallowing anything I would throw at him.

Being a former English teacher and one that enjoyed a good word, I started throwing out morsels of words that he could chew on: wonderful, marvelous, stupendous, Praise the Lord. I moved a little deeper into the thesaurus and declared one of my favorite words, bodacious! He bit and was hooked.

It has become a game around our house: during and as we are finishing a meal, we begin our litany of words to describe the delicacies that grandma had prepared for us. “Delicious“, I cry. “Wonderful“, he shouts, “Stupendous“, I retort… “Bodacious“, he crows. Grandma feels good, we laugh and think of other words that might describe the feast we just devoured.

He is four and will be 14 in ten short years; 14 and dumber than a rock. 14 and squirrelly. 14 and interested in girls, but has no idea where to start. Perhaps even, 14 and no longer a parrot of grandpa’s, but a brazen tree-cawing crow.

My work is cut out for me this next ten years.

Pr. 22:6 Train up a child when he is young, so that when he is old, he will not depart.

Written by:
Earl Taylor, Director of Design and Vision: earldtaylor@yahoo.com
Hidden Acres Christian Center
a youth camp and retreat center owned by the Evangelical Free Churches of Iowa, South Dakota, and Missouri.

Picture of the Week

....another two days of snow. I am ready to commit to going off the blob one more time, if, in the next 30 days it gets warm enough to do so!

Blessed is the Man who Perseveres under Trials

I was moved to tears yesterday morning as I read through a friend's website and watched videos of projects and interviews that have taken place over the last 6 years. May I share their story?

DeDe and I have known Gaye Sampson for over 40 years; we all attended a little Christian High School near Greenfield Iowa in the early 70's. She was from Chicago, DeDe and I were from Iowa. Gaye was one of DeDe's best friends throughout her high school days. We finished school: Gaye returned home and married Bob Swaback; DeDe married me.

In 2004, Gaye and Bob's son, Mitchell, was involved in a swimming accident that took his life. A 23 year old young man entered heaven that August day. That was a very sad and dark day for Bob and Gaye... but let me share with you the rest of their story.

I referred earlier about reading a friends website: www.mitchellswabackcharities.org. As I read over the website, I saw Bob and Gaye take the tragedy in their lives and turn it into a wonderful, fruitful ministry. First, they committed time and resources to help an orphanage in Peru that Mitchell had been involved with through an earlier missions trip. They didn't stop there, but continued to realize a dream of their son's by seeing that a sports complex was added to the church Mitchell attended. They continued by getting involved by sponsoring an extreme makeover to Tabitha House in Chicago: a Christian run home for homeless women and children. For six years, Gaye and Bob have held fund raising events so they can minister to those in need. Isn't that a wonderful story of ashes to beauty?

I read this morning from James 1. "Consider it pure joy my brothers when you encounter various trials." My devotional book went on to add: "In this reading, James has two other pieces of advice for getting through trials. One is to ask God for wisdom (v.5). Wisdom is practical knowledge about how to live in godly ways, especially under difficult circumstances. The other is to 'believe and not doubt' (v.6). Affirming what we know to be true about God is faith, a rock that cannot be moved by any storm of life."

The older I get, the more I understand that no family is immune from heartache. These past two weeks I have spent the cold, snowy days at home tracking down other students of Stanzel Christian High School. You know what I have found? Nearly every student has had some heartache/trial in their life since leaving high school; no one is immune. I also have seen many different ways we have handled our trials.

Let me encourage you to turn your heartache into joy; your sorrow and pain into something good and productive; roadblocks into bridges; death into life for others; broken lives into restored lives. God is the giver of all good gifts... and He is capable of sustaining and renewing our hearts and minds.... thank you, Gaye and Bob, for your Godly example... may we each follow your example and create ministry from our sorrow.

Written by:
Earl Taylor, Director of Design and Vision
Hidden Acres Christian Center...a youth camp and retreat center in central IowaHidden Acres is owned by the Evangelical Free churches of Iowa, South Dakota and Missouri.

Hidden Acres Picture of the Week

Over 250 men gathered at camp for our annual district men's retreat last week. Hidden Acres is now hosting 4 weekends of Winter Blast: our district middle school winter retreat. Over 1000 young people and youth pastors and sponsors will be a blessing to us throughout the next 4 weekends! Always room in the Inn for one more retreat group. Check us out at: www.hacamps.org

Stanzel Days- 1968 to 1978

Lois Cutbirth and her seven children. All the children were involved in the ministry over the years.

For 10 years, a little experiment of a Christian boarding school existed along Highway 92, located between Winterset and Greenfield Iowa. Even today, the original school building stands... sagging and unattended for over 30 years. A sign out front still proclaims Stanzel Christian High School; but no book has been opened or no meals prepared for students since closing in 1978. For those who gave money and time in the late 60's to open the doors, some may look at their efforts as wasted; this blog is to tell men like Cecil Whistler, Clair Rogers, and others, "Thanks". It is also a big thanks to all the teachers who gave of their years to pour into a couple hundred young people's lives.

The glory years of Stanzel were the years of the Cutbirths; along with Bob and Lois, Ray Block, and others saw the vision and they too poured their heart and soul into getting this baby of a school going and on its feet. I was able to attend in 1969, the second year Stanzel was open. The first year, about 23 students left the safe, public school system to try this alternative education system. This was 20 years before the homeschool movement began to pick up momentum. The late 60's cultural revolution was forcing parents to look for an alternative to the school system that was being infiltrated with drugs, Vietnam unrest, and wild rock and roll.

Gas was $.29 a gallon, a pizza was a dollar, a pop was $.10 and a candy bar a nickel. Truly those were the good old days. Visits to the nearby Ramseys service station were guarded; there was a fear that perhaps the local farmers might swear or spit tobacco our way. As students, we loved the atmosphere of the locals: Worth Ramsey.. the owner, and his sons, Sonny and Hugh; one a mechanic/farmer, the other a hard drinking farmer that drank and swore too much. We loved getting away after class and slipping over and drinking a pop or eating a candy bar.

At 14 years of age, I was making decisions and living on my own like most 18 year olds were allowed to do when leaving for college. Some how, a group of young people from all over Iowa and the midwest, came together, lived under one roof with one dorm counselor, and became bonded and friends for life. It wasn't perfect; there were young men and women who came in troubled and left troubled. There were students who did not make it past the first month because of behavior issues. There were those students who came, lacking skills and abilities who left richly rewarded and with direction and purpose in their lives.

Who would have thought that young people like Steve Canter, Randy Larson, DeDe Crow and myself would have gone into full time ministry. Steve Canter is now a missionary in Japan; Randy Larson has been a preacher for over 30 years; DeDe and I have been at Hidden Acres for over 25 years. Each of us would say, "Stanzel days saved us... it gave us direction... it made a student out of us... it solidified our faith"

By far the most influential people at Stanzel were Bob and Lois Cutbirth along with Ray Block. Each one so different in their approach, but each one ordained to be there at that particular time. It was Lois who took a rag-tag group of singers and made it a choir that did a little travelling to events and churches. It was Bob who administered the school, cast the vision, disciplined the students, raised the money, encouraged the staff, and met with the very conservative board. It was Ray Block who introduced students for the first time to creative thinking... outside the box kind of thinking. These were pre-psychology years... but Ray was ahead of his time. He was ministry minded before others.

Ray Block is still impacting and influencing young lives

As fast as the school developed, it ended just as abruptly; not much explanation by the school board: one fall day in 1971 we had teachers, and the next day, several were let go. Nobody ever really knew the details; only that it wasn't the same after that day. I left at the end of the first semester and returned to public school after staying 3 years at Stanzel. DeDe ended up attending all 4 years and graduating from Stanzel the next spring. The school continued on for a few more years; I returned in 1977 and taught English, German and PE. DeDe returned also that year to teach music and be the girls dorm counselor. We married at the end of the school year in 1978. The school never opened again.

I tell you about Stanzel not to lift it up as the perfect example of a ministry; there were plenty of things that went wrong. I tell you about Stanzel to remind us that, regardless of any of our current situations, great things can happen when we are faithful. The Cutbirths and the Blocks... they were faithful. Did they do everything right... probably not... but in spite of our efforts, God is able to take little conversations, small encounters and make them huge on the spiritual impact scale.

To Lois Cutbirth and to Ray Block... I thank you. Lois is now 85 years old and Ray, must be 70ish: I want to publicly tell you how much you meant to me. Your efforts were not in vain.

And to those who are serving in out-of-the-way places; you wonder if your efforts will amount to anything: I encourage you to remain faithful in the work you were called to; there will be those around you who will come along later... and write you letters of thanks for how and what your poured into their lives.

Written by
Earl Taylor, Director of Design and Vision
Hidden Acres Christian Center
...a youth camp and retreat center in central Iowa
Hidden Acres is owned by the Evangelical Free Churches of Iowa, South Dakota, and Missouri.

Picture of the Week

Think Summer my Friends... think Summer! It doesn't help much right now... but green trees, water, and fun in the sun is right around the corner at camp!!

Dear old Aunties

Auntie Elsie, Aunt Betty, and Auntie Gladys- another year older!

We all have them... dear old aunties that poured out love to us when we were children. I had 5 of them on my dad's side. Two of them just celebrated their 96th and 93rd birthdays this week. Let me share with you my memories.

Auntie Peg. One of a kind. Loud, opinionated, with a memory for obsure details of the past. She knew everybody and everybodies business. I lived with her while in college for 6 months; it was there I grew to love this unusual lady who was a bit brash on the exterior, but a gentle, loving soul on the inside. Aunt Peg passed away a few years ago at 93 year of age. When we were children, we didn't like staying with Aunt Peg... as an adult, we loved being around her and hearing her stories and listening to our family history.

Auntie Gladys is the second to oldest... she turned 96 this week. She was the care-giver. From the world's view, Auntie never did anything huge in her life; she stayed home and cared and nurtured her family, and doing it so well. Uncle Bill, her husband, was one of my favorites. A fisherman, a quail hunter, a talker. It was this auntie that cared for us many a Friday nights as we laid around her house after our weekly trip to the laundry mat with my dad; she fed us, she mended our jeans, she mothered us.

Auntie Elsie turned 93 this week. Auntie Elsie was the happy one; always laughing; always excited about birds and flowers. She lived on the farm outside of Kellogg in a big house with lots of rooms. You wanted to be around Aunt Elsie because you knew your spirits would be lifted. She was married to Uncle Roy; a great farmer, but just the oposite of Auntie... gruff, frugal and impatient. Never have I seen a couple so opposite in their dispositions. Never have I seen a lady enjoy spending her late husband's saved money after he passed away. What fun for us to see our dear auntie get out and enjoy her life with traveling late in her life.

Auntie Anne... the kissing auntie. We knew we were going to be lavished with lip-sticked-kisses when we met and left this auntie. She was the beautiful one; her hair, her makeup, he whole demeanor shouted glamour. We loved seeing auntie as a kid; she loved everyone of my 23 first cousins; she never remembered our faults and shortcomings, but poured out love and affection to everyone, every time she saw us. We loved going to her house; we always felt like a king in her palace.

Aunt Betty... she turns 72 in early February, the youngest and the last of 8 kids born to my grandma and grandpa. Aunt Betty was different from the rest; she became a single mother in the early 60's. She never married, but had the one daughter. Aunt Betty grew on us. We never stayed at her home as a child, but later learned to love her for who she was; a staunch Democrat, a smoker, and a great cook.

As I reflect this week about the birthdays of my four living aunties, I am glad they were/are apart of my life. I have had 3 aunties that have lived into their 90's, each one living through 2 world wars, each one leaving a wonderful legacy in my mind. I pray I can do likewise and influence my nephews and nieces with love and kindness and kisses and encouragement as they grow up in a very different world than I did.

The Red Dress

I was 5 at the time; my sister Vivian would have been 7. We both were attending the same school in Grinnell Iowa: Cooper Elementary. Cooper Elementary no longer exists but a newer Fareway store has been built over the site.

In those days, 1960, girls wore dresses to school. If for some reason the weather was bitterly cold, pants could be worn under the dress. There were strict dress codes for all students.

This must of took place after our mother left us; Dad had custody of 4 young children; he worked at Donaldson's factory in Grinnell while raising 4 kids in a cold, old farmhouse. During that first winter, Grandma Taylor came up from Missouri to help with the household chores and be there when we arrived home on the bus.

Vivian brought home a note from her teacher one day asking if she could stay after school. The teacher had said she would bring her home. Permission was granted. Discipline? Extra help on homework? No... shopping.

We don't recall the teacher's name, only the act. She took this little 7 year old, who probably didn't have a decent dress at the time, up town and bought her a simple red dress.

I have often thought of the impact this wonderful gesture by a kind, sensitive teacher must have made on this young child who must have missed out on a mother's fussing over her school clothes for her.

Reminder to me: Watch for opportunities to create a "Red Dress" moment in the lives of children. Acts of kindness to a 7 year old that needs a little extra love may become one the pillars that could shape a child's perspective all their lives.

I know... I remember... and I know my sister remembers.

Written by
Earl Taylor, Director of Design and Vision
Hidden Acres Christian Center, Dayton, Iowa
Hidden Acres is a youth camp and retreat center and is owned and operated by the Evangelical Free Churches of Iowa, South Dakota, and Missouri.

One Last Trout

It is a cold,snowy day today; my thoughts are on future Springs and past Springs: the following story is from 2008, written after my dad passed away in June.

We had been saying for years, “This could be our last trout fishing together.” Finally, it came true this spring. Dad turned 80 in February, and had spent a good part of the late winter in and out of the hospital with old age infirmities; his body was worn out.

We headed to Waterloo Creek near Dorchester; this was a stream that Dad had grown to love to fish; he had one hole he particularly enjoyed sitting over. My brother Randy and I loaded Dad and his scooter chair up, and headed north from our cabin for what was to be the last trout fish.

It was a sunny day; we arrived before the stocking truck arrived. We were the first ones in and we were able to secure dad’s favorite hole. The stocking truck arrived by the time we had our equipment unpacked and poles readied to fish. Dad caught his last five trout that morning. He never moved from his chair the entire time he fished; we handed him bait, retrieved his fish and put them on a stringer, and brought him drinks and sandwiches.

We almost forgot to take a picture; but now are so thankful we had Dad pose with his last catch. That was the last time Dad sat along the banks of an Iowa trout stream; it all started in 1964 when a friend invited Dad to use his little school house cabin along Wexford Creek, south of Lansing. For 44 years, Dad had hauled his boys, his grandsons, and old hunting buddies to the cabin to try their luck on these small ribbons of streams that the DNR keep stocked weekly with hatchery raised trout: browns and rainbows mostly.

Dad only caught one lunker trout in 44 years; a 5 pound rainbow; and even this by accident. I had hooked the trout earlier with my cane pole and bobber, but it didn’t take long before I was stripped of line, hook and bobber; too much fish and not enough pole. Dad was throwing a spinner when he hooked my broken line and bobber, wrapping the line up in his spinner. After 20 minutes of working the fish, Dad dragged it onto shore. But, he was just as happy catching 12 inch rainbows that glistened when fresh out of the water; to Dad every trout was a blessing and a thing of beauty to behold.


We will return to the cabin again this spring to do a little more fishing,turkey hunting and seek for mushrooms; but we will also make our way up the path from the trout stream at Wexford and visit Dad’s nearby grave. It was Dad’s wish to be buried in the Catholic cemetery overlooking the Wexford stream and right down the bluff where Dad shot so many spring gobblers; it was as if he wanted to be able to hear one more trout break water for a gadfly or catch one more gobbler announce the morning off the roost.

Welcome home Dad. May spring come soon!

Written by
Earl Taylor, Director of Vision and Design
Hidden Acres Christian Center, Dayton Iowa
Hidden Acres is the youth and family camp of the Evangelical Free Churches of Iowa, South Dakota, and Missouri