saved, baptized & called to preach!
My Salvation Experience
My salvation experience begins down on the old Boyd Farm in the rolling hills of the Southwest Missouri Ozarks where historical Missionary Baptist churches dot the countryside.
The church where I was saved originally was called Bethel and was organized in 1889. The church is located in Charity, Missouri; once a thriving Dallas County Missouri hamlet. The local Missionary Baptists call Charity church "Hog-eye."
After seventy seven years of “earnestly contending for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints” I was saved in this rustic one-room frame it was there I sought to be rescued from hell, crying out unto God on a mourner’s bench. I was not raised in church, as a mischievous boy was sent there so kindly religious folks could babysit me. Although, a good man he was an alocholic and my mother seldom attended church. My grandmother was the other influence on my life, as the wife & widow of a Kansas preacher. When her eyes became dim she would have me read the Holy Bible to her and sometimes, she would break out in tears and sing old hymns. She told me there was coming a day in my life when the preacher’s preaching would condemn my heart and I would feel condemned of my sin. I want you Richard, Grandma would say, when that moment comes you feel your heart broken set apart from God kneel down and pray on the altar, repent and ask the Lord to save you. I kept that promise at old Hog-eye church one summery night before my 16th birthday (45 Yrs ago) I was fourteen years old when I became lost. I was working in the alfalfa field. That night Uncle Francis Boyd loaded us kids in the back of his truck and carried us to an old fashion revival meeting where the bible becomes a path unto your feet. Hobart "Bud" Bybee, son of Ozark preacher Sherman Bybee preached and conviction swelled up in my dying soul. I did not get saved at Green Mountain Missionary Baptist Church that year, but a fear of God set up in my heart that I never forgot.
That next summer when I came to work on my Uncle’s dairy farm again my cousins and their friends wanted me to go to Hog-eye church. Don't you know I did not want to go! To entice me into going that Sunday night, they told me about the deacon’s daughter about my age, and how pretty she was. I have to confess I did have girls on my mind that summer’s night and she was a sight to see. I joined the other sinner boys my age sitting uninterested in the service. I had my eyes feasted on the deacon’s daughter. The hymn time came and during their melody-making the older church members testified and some shouted out loud. I thought of the strange behaviour of this crowd and what have my cousins got me into. But I soon found these folks weren’t crazy. They were heaven bound and I knew something divine had to have moved them to express from the heart such bliss. And I wanted some of this! When the preacher came to the pulpit to preach his message on hell it got my attention. He preached hell so hot I soon forgot that pretty deacon’s daughter. Bro Alvie Dill instilled with power and in demonstration of the Spirit made hell a real and terrible place for a lost soul to spend eternity. His was a message that had my name written all over it and made my soul tremble. The congregation was singing the hymn "O' Why not tonight." The evangelist, Paul Raymond Gann, now there stands a lanky sort of preacher man in his Key brand of over-alls who had an uncanny resemblance to Honest Abe. He gave the altar-call exhorting sinner-boys like me to flee the wrath of God which is to come. I realized that my sins were going to imprison me forever in this place of torment; I knew in my heart, I needed to go to the altar & repent. I hesitated to go besides the Ole devil that angel of light sang in the ear of my soul "Why not tommorrow night!" My heart was filled with pride that night. I tried to hide my feelings, I didn’t want my cousins and these strange people see me crying. The church where I was saved originally was called Bethel and was organized in 1889. The church is located in Charity, Missouri; once a thriving Dallas County Missouri hamlet. The local Missionary Baptists call Charity church "Hog-eye."
After seventy seven years of “earnestly contending for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints” I was saved in this rustic one-room frame it was there I sought to be rescued from hell, crying out unto God on a mourner’s bench. I was not raised in church, as a mischievous boy was sent there so kindly religious folks could babysit me. Although, a good man he was an alocholic and my mother seldom attended church. My grandmother was the other influence on my life, as the wife & widow of a Kansas preacher. When her eyes became dim she would have me read the Holy Bible to her and sometimes, she would break out in tears and sing old hymns. She told me there was coming a day in my life when the preacher’s preaching would condemn my heart and I would feel condemned of my sin. I want you Richard, Grandma would say, when that moment comes you feel your heart broken set apart from God kneel down and pray on the altar, repent and ask the Lord to save you. I kept that promise at old Hog-eye church one summery night before my 16th birthday (45 Yrs ago) I was fourteen years old when I became lost. I was working in the alfalfa field. That night Uncle Francis Boyd loaded us kids in the back of his truck and carried us to an old fashion revival meeting where the bible becomes a path unto your feet. Hobart "Bud" Bybee, son of Ozark preacher Sherman Bybee preached and conviction swelled up in my dying soul. I did not get saved at Green Mountain Missionary Baptist Church that year, but a fear of God set up in my heart that I never forgot.
Psalms 34:18 “The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.”
While standing during the altar-call I turned to look at my backside; I just knew the seat of my britches was on fire for I could smell the scent of smoke in the air. Hell was made so real to me that night and as I said ran to the mourner’s bench crying & praying in my heart that the Lord would save me. Exhausted in earnest seeking & weeping I submitted to Gods’ will and trusted in Him to rescue me from hell where by now I saw myself falling down deep into its burning flame. As I rose off the altar of prayer I experienced the sweetest peace in the depths of my soul and I know like Apostle Paul in whom I have believed that the Lord saved me.
I remember that winter (in 20 degree weather) my baptism in Mill Creek just across the Missouri line near Olathe Kansas. JC Pinkley an old home missionary from the Ozark hills, a 50 year veteran of the gospel buried me in the watery grave having been previously saved that summer. I became the first member by baptism into Oxford Missionary Baptist Church organized in October 1966.
My preaching experience
The Lord called me to preach in my 16thyear while a junior in Olathe High School. I was a new born babe happy I had been saved from hell. I was sitting on the front pew my 1st cousin, George F. Medlin, newly-elected pastor of Oxford Missionary Baptist Church preached that night. The one-hundred year old one-room school house made of clapboard siding abiding even after the rain, wind, & storm of a bygone era; became the site, one Sunday night on the southwest corner of the front church pew where God called me to preach. The call to preach for several weeks brought me much unrest. I couldn’t sleep I tossed and turned in my bed. My mother thought I was sick and took me to the family physician; but no pill could cure my ill from that still small voice calling me to preach God’s word. Finally, I submitted to God’s will in my life and one wintry Sunday night, I told the church how the Lord called me to preach. From that night I never again sat on the site where the Lord called me to preach in the southwest corner on the front pew. Tears stained the pages as my first sermon was taken from Psalm 1:1-6 stressing “how we need to be careful not to stand in way of sinners.” At first the source of my ministry came from my head; instead from within my heart for I could not get self out of the way. Uncle Joe, the church deacon appeared to know my trouble and his suggestion was “just be me and try not to be a carbon copy of another preacher.”
And since 1982 that is what I have tried to do; rise from the church pew depending on the Holy Spirit to preach my sermon. J.H. Smith Missionary in Japan, said it best: “Know when to stand up -speak-up & shut-up."
And since 1982 that is what I have tried to do; rise from the church pew depending on the Holy Spirit to preach my sermon. J.H. Smith Missionary in Japan, said it best: “Know when to stand up -speak-up & shut-up."
Ordination into the full work of the Ministry
I was ordained by Oxford Missionary Baptist Church June 3 1984. Contrary to the tradition of the fathers ordaining a brother to serve a church as a Pastor, I was ordained to the full work of the Minstry as the Apostle Paul & Barnabas was by Antioch, "I was sent out for the work in Arkansas "whereunto I was called." I have been blessed laboring in ten mission efforts in 5 states and 2 foreign nations. I have see seven of those missions organized into sister Missionary Baptists churches. My mission work in Jamaica and in the Gulf of Mexico is under authority of the Old Timey Missionary Baptists in Craighead with Warsop blessing.
My uncle Deacon Joe Pinkley, son of baptism adminstrator, JC Pinkley presented me the bible at my ordination service and marked within it pages a special scripture I still abide by it today. A tribute to my early preaching experience. Psalms 121:1 “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. Today, I have preached for 30 years in churches of like faith in 16 US states, 6 associations, and 2 foreign countries & traveled over a million miles on land, in the air, and across the sea preaching and doing mission work. I have been blessed to see many saved & baptized. I take no personal credit for the Lord edits all my mission work. I’m but His unprofitable servant and He deserves all praise and honor. I have seen my three children saved & still active in churches as well as six out twelve of my grandchildren saved all in one night; a sight to see their grandmother shouting jubilant praise moved by the Spirit making a joyful noise unto the Lord. I’m still having a fulfilling ministry besides a history filled with unique experiences as a sheep (harmless as a dove &wise as a serpent) in the midst of ravening religious wolves on the battlefield for my Lord.
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