Joy to the World...THE LORD IS COME!!

Talk about getting me out of the mood for Christmas!! I turned on a local TV station this morning to catch an update on the upcoming storm, only to be greeted by a lively New York City choir singing a rendition of Joy to the World. Nice choir: energetic and engaged. But they got the song all wrong: they couldn't sing the song as written: Joy to the World, the Lord has come... that would be offensive to someone... instead they replaced the Lord has come with "let everyone sing". As if singing was going to bring lasting JOY to the world.

For those who know me, you know that I don't go for all the hype and glitter of Christmas. I was told when I had children I would change.... I didn't: I have four. I was told when I had grandchildren I would change... I didn't: I have six!

I do love the spirit of Christmas: the extra time with family, extra time to read and relax, extra time to reflect on the past year and anticipate the next year, and I even like a few football games. I don't need presents and decorations and parties to accomplish that. What I like best is the platform of the Christmas season to share my faith: it is a no brainer. When others complain about their busyness of the week, I can talk about the Christ child... born to be the Savior. Born into a world full of sin and strife, knowing that this "lamb of a child" would 33 years later be the final and perfect sacrifice.

Today is the 23rd, and I have yet to visit a store in town to purchase the "Joy giving gift" that many have labored over for weeks. My prayer over these next few days is that I would be sent a stranger with an empty spot in his heart, and that I might be the messenger of the Good News to all people and share about this Christ child born so many years ago... "Lord give me the courage and discernment when you send a joyless person into my life!"

Written by:
Earl Taylor, Design and Vision Director
Hidden Acres Christian Center Dayton,Iowa
...Hidden Acres is a Christian youth and summer camp along with an adult and family retreat center located in central Iowa. Hidden Acres is owned by the Evangelical Free Churches of Iowa, South Dakota, and Missouri.

Apples don't fall far from the Tree

My 4th grade friend Norman

My daughter arrived home from college a few Christmas's ago; she had called earlier in the day and said she was bringing a friend.

I was a little taken back when I stepped outside to greet my daughter; I could see her friend was struggling with her baggage. She walked with a limp, her knees were turned in and she wore thick glasses, with limited eye sight.

As we sat in the living room, tears came to my eyes because I was seeing the exact image in myself 37 years later.

We had moved to Coon Rapids, Iowa when I was going into the fourth grade. I was ready for the move. My dad had recently remarried after a 1961 divorce. We settled into the community, and I started school in Miss Sorenson’s class.

In 1964, there were not special education classes, only three levels of students: the smart, the average, and the slow. We had 3 slow students in my 4th grade class. Dave, Patty, and Norman. I was average to smart.

No one wore tennis shoes to school in 1964, but dress shoes. Norman didn’t wear either; he wore a heavy type above-the-ankle work boot that was sturdy, bulky, and enduring.

From his feet to his head, Norman dressed differently than the other kids. His coat and jeans were not stylish, but straight cut denims that a 30 year old farm hand would wear. He wouldn’t eat the 35 cent school lunches, instead he would carry his lunch of heavy dark bread sandwiches full of last night’s meat. I ate the Friday fish stick lunches and drank the 2 cent milk.

I wasn’t the biggest kid on the play ground, but I remember watching after Norman. I always made sure he was included in kick ball games at recess and would not allow the other boys to poke fun or mimic Norman. He was not overly gifted in running and throwing, but he was extra strong in arms and chest.

When Christmas came around in 1964, my dad was making around $3000 per year. I didn’t know we were the poor ones. I remember having our Sunday school Christmas program prior to Christmas school vacation. I remember the good hard candy and chocolates that were passed out to each child in the brown paper sack. I saved mine.

I took it to school on Monday morning, gift wrapped in a box and slipped it to Norman over lunch. He never said much. I never received a thank you, but I knew I had done the right thing that Christmas. I haven’t seen Norman since grade school. I moved away when we finished 8th grade.

I doubt my daughter’s friend got asked to visit somebody’s home often during her 4 years at Moody Bible. I am glad that apple’s don’t fall very far from the tree. I am glad that some things can be taught and others things are pure instinct.

And to you my old friend Norman, Merry Christmas to you again, 44 years later.

Written by
Earl Taylor, Director of Vision and Design
Hidden Acres Christian Center, Dayton, Iowa
...a children's and youth camp, a retreat center, and a family camp located in Central Iowa. Hidden Acres is owned by the Evangelical Free Churches of Iowa, South Dakota, and Missouri.

A True Turkey Story

I had one tag turkey tag left in my pocket, so I felt it my duty to hunt just a few more times for turkey on my property north of my house. I was able to get two tags this year, and had filled one in October.

On Sunday evening I sat in my shooting house; it is a little 6 sided shooting shack on stilts, with 6 windows to see and shoot from. I love it because it was my dads, and I love it because I can sit in it with a heater, coffee, radio and earphones, and enjoy an evening of hunting. From my high perch, I can see all corners of my property and some of the neighbors too.

Right on cue, a group of 5 young gobblers entered my bean field. I got my gun stuck out the window and waited until they came into range. At 50 yards, I could tell they were not going to get any closer, so I shot, dropping one. He flopped around, but I knew that was normal. But, he stood back up and walked into some weeds. I jumped out of the house, and chased him down, shooting him again with my last bullet.

I carried him back the 100 yards to the shooting shack, and laid him at the bottom of my stairs. I had a bow tag, so I returned to the shack to wait out the last hour of the day. While in the shack, I received a phone call from my son in law. While on the phone I said, "There goes another turkey across my bean field." Then it dawned on me to look out the door. I did. And the dead turkey was gone.

I had been pondering how I was going to cook this turkey for Thanksgiving today, and all the time this Lazarus turkey was thinking otherwise. I was out of bullets, so I tried to chase him down with my bow, but the turkey slipped into the timber, never to be seen again.


....and that is a true story!! Motto: Always have a ham in the freezer!

written by:
Earl Taylor
Director of Design and Vision
Hidden Acres Christian Center
... a Christian youth and children summer camp, a retreat center for adults and families, owned by the Evangelical Free Churches of Iowa, Missouri, and South Dakota, and located in central Iowa

A Few Good Friends

My good friend Herb hunting with me


We all want them; we all need them; few of us have what we would call a Good Friend. I have just a few of them; I know lots and lots of people; I consider many people friends of mine; there is only a handful of folks that I call Good Friends.

I had a visit with one of my Good Friends this week; Herb and his wife and daughter drove over to see us and we spent some time hunting together, and a little time visiting and laughing. Much of our time is not spent, visiting about general newsy stuff; if we talk we talk directly to each other and discuss what is going on in each others lives.

I lost a childhood Good friend this week; Randy Schultz died from smoke inhalation caused by a house fire. Randy and I were nearly inseparable when I moved to the Coon Rapids area in 1964. For 5 years, we bummed around together; I would go to his house on Saturday morning, help him scoop hog manure from the barn and lay down fresh straw for the pigs, in order to play and be together in the afternoon. Randy was twice the size of me. My dad referred lovingly to Randy as "Hoss", after the Bonanza character. Some people saw us together and said, "Mutt and Jeff!"

We moved away from Coon Rapids in 1969, and Randy and I saw each other occasionally. 20 years ago, I attended the funeral of Randy's 3 year old son who was accidentally run over by a semi truck in their front yard. Years later I attended Randy's parents funeral. We didn't write, we didn't call over the years, only seeing each other occasionally. Next week I will attend my last Schultz funeral.

Proverbs says it right... iron sharpens iron... honor the friends of your father... a friend stick closer than a brother. True friends admonish, encourage, exhort, and trust each other. True friendship endures time and space; friends come and go.

I will miss knowing Randy is no longer here; my prayer is that we will meet once again in heaven and renew our friendship again, after another 40 years of near silence.

Written by
Earl Taylor, Director of Design and Vision
Hidden Acres Christian Center
...a Christian youth and children's summer camp and a retreat center for adults, families, churches, and schools. Hidden Acres is owned by the Evangelical Free Churches of Iowa, Missouri, and South Dakota and is located near Dayton along the Des Moines River.

The 2 dollar Bill

...as told to me by Dave Martin

“When I was in high school a best buddy and I exchanged $2 bills. We told each other that even when we were broke and down on our luck, we still had $2. I took it seriously,” remembers Dave.

“Several years had passed. I was out of college, married and in Thief River Falls Minnesota. I wasn’t a pastor yet, but Carol and I were very active in the local Evangelical Free Church. I was keen on seeing Pete, Dee and their family to come to church. I kept asking them.”

“Would you let your three kids come to Sunday school?” I asked. Dee was for it, Pete had reservations. The children eventually came.

The boys came to Sunday school, but after awhile they were hesitant to come. “Everyone was wearing suits, and we boys have these old sweaters.” Dave heard of their embarrassment. The next Sunday, Dave the Sunday school superintendent, stood up in front of the church, wearing his sweater. “The boys beamed at me.”

Sometime later, we were at the Wednesday evening prayer meeting, when one of the dear saints who worked for the public works department shared, “Pete and Dee are going to get their utilities turned off. We should pray about it.”

Pastor Joe Swan said, “Pray about it! We are going to take up an offering.” And so he did. He pulled out a paper bag, passed it around, with families putting a dollar bill in as it passed their chair.

“I was dead broke,” remembers Dave. “Except for the $2 bill tucked away in my billfold. I didn’t want to give it up, but I felt the Spirit of the Lord prompt me. I dropped it in as the bag passed by.” Their lights stayed on and Pete got back on his feet.
Pete and De started attending church.

One year later we were ready to take our 1st church in Hector, Minnesota. The church was having a little going-a-way party for us, and Pastor Joe found a paper bag and passed it around again so that church members could give us a gift to send us off to Hector.

When we arrived home, and began to sort through the bag, there was the exact $2 bill I had given to Pete and Dee in a sealed envelope.

I went to see Pete the next day, “How did you know I had given you the $2 bill?” I asked. Pete said, “I know of no one else dumb enough to give me their last cent!”

“I still have the $2 bill in my billfold as a constant reminder of being faithful when being faithful hurts. I photocopied the bill, framed it, and gave it to Pete for their 50th anniversary, only I changed the picture on it… instead of the president, we put a picture of Pete.”

Pete and De grew in the Lord, raised their family, and was successful as a business man. His children to this day are walking with the Lord.

“Isn’t GOD GOOD!”

Written by:
Earl Taylor Director of Design and Vision
Hidden Acres Christian Center
... a Christian youth and children's summer camp and a retreat center for adults, families, churches and schools. Hidden Acres is owned by the Evangelical Free Churches of Iowa, Missouri, and South Dakota and is located near Dayton in Central Iowa along the Des Moines River.

Foundation Stones

I returned to my cabin in Northeast Iowa this past weekend; we took grandkids on their first trip to cabin and to tour the area looking at the leaves and the many beautiful sights. We had a wonderful trip.

As I was picking up sticks to build a fire behind the cabin, I noticed that the limestones that used to be the foundation for our old cabin, were peaking through the dirt; one here, one there, but a general outline could be seen in the grass; it had the appearance of something like a ancient building site being unearthed by archeogist.


I knew what was beneith the surface; I didn't need to have an expert tell me. It was I that burned the old cabin down accidently 4 years ago. It was I who pushed in the left over debris and buried everything below the surface and seeded it down with grass; and yet four years later... stones were making their way to the surface, indicating where the old house had set.

We all have them: buried rocks. Rocks that we have tried to bury. Rocks that have deeply hurt, wounded, or grieved us. Rocks of death, broken relationships, and unfulfilled promises. Rocks that have created havoc and chaos in family life.

We don't bury joy rocks! We mount them on top of the shelves of our houses and minds. Great stuff! Great events! Awards! Trophies! Letters of admiration! Letters of Praise!

It is the buried rocks that we keep tripping over, stubbing or toe or falling flat on our faces because they tripped us up.

I will leave the rocks visible at the cabin, and won't remove them until they trip me up at night as I go to the outhouse; then I will dig them up with a vengenance and will remove them permentantly. And with the rock, I will build a fire place near the pond, so I can have the rocks visible and functional again. It is ok to have the rocks... just don't let them crush you beneath their weight. Use them them for future ministry.

Written by
Earl Taylor
Executive Director
Hidden Acres Christian Center, Dayton, Iowa 50530
... a Christian youth and childrens summer camp and a retreat center for adults, families, churches and schools. Hidden Acres is owned by the Evangelical Free Churches of Iowa, Missouri, and South Dakota

Boats and Beer Signs

I actually don't enjoy estate auctions, but I will look through the listings in our weekly shopper; my wife likes to attend auctions, so I want to see if there might be something I could use that she could buy for me.

Last week's shopper had the usual listings, but one struck me and resonated deep into my mind: lots of old beer signs and lots of boats! A man had live 70+ years, and two types of items seemed to personify the person... beer and boats.

I know that auction notices are unable to fully explain the man; perhaps he was a fine Christian man who led countless people to the Lord; perhaps he was a fine family man that love and nurtured his kids and wife: I was unable to read that in the list of what he had accumulated. I don't suppose I would have been any more ready to purchase a boat from him if I had known he had used the boats for Christian cruises of Don Williams Lake. But through the entire thought process, I did ponder, what will I be known for when I die and they sell off my stuff that I had accumulated over the years? Will anybody really care about my many deer heads, my guns, my wildlife art collection and will anybody really know and understand my testimony and my walk with Christ? Will my life on earth have any effect on what will be sold at my estate auction?

I just returned from a hunting trip to South Dakota where I got lots of shots at deer; missing 11 times. I was surprised at my response when I missed a couple really nice size bucks: I felt bad for a minute, but didn't stew or brood over not acquiring another big rack for my wall. Instead I rejoiced in the entire trip, revelling in the outdoors, and the many opportunities. I was content with waking up each morning very alive and eager to face the new day. I thought to myself,"Perhaps I am finally learning something, growing a little wiser, and perhaps I am getting things in life in a better perspective."

Earlier this week I had a chance to share with my 80 year old friend Cliff about Christ; in the end of our conversation, Cliff simply said, "You were brought up differently than I was. My dad lived to be a 100, and he did not see any need for religion. I feel the same way." Cliff will die one of these days, maybe tomorrow, and maybe like his dad, in 20 years; it is my prayer that when I preach his funeral sermon, I can tell about the man Cliff, who loved to hunt and garden, but more importantly, Cliff the man who came to Christ at 80+ years old. Pray with me for Cliff.

My friend Cliff

I actually hope I do have a big audience at my estate sale; but I don't want them there because they covet a deer head or a gun of mine; I want them there sitting on the sidelines visiting with others and saying, "I would like to have one of Earl's guns, he meant something to me and he was the one who led me to Christ." I trust that perhaps a Cliff might come to the sale... or others because they came to know Christ because of my faithfulness here on earth.

So... is your garage full of unfinished sail boats and the walls littered with antique beer signs? Or... are you already preparing you sale bill with fewer and fewer earthly items, and concentrating on your eternal sale bill?

Written by
Earl Taylor, Executive Director
Hidden Acres Christian Center, Dayton, Iowa
... a Christain youth and childrens summer camp and a retreat center for adults, families, churches, and schools. Hidden Acres is owned by the Evangelical Free Churches of Iowa, South Dakota, and Missouri.