Hanging at the Well
A Testimony to God's Grace
Chapter 11: God's Provision
I can go on and on about God’s ability to and willingness to provide for our needs. In January 1999 we gave up two full time salaries to step out on faith to become “Traveling Teachers.” The only way we can explain our financial situation is, “God.” We are living on less than half the salary we were earning when we made this career change.
Finances have never been my strong suit. I was a hard learner and God had to teach me some tough lessons. When I first went into the ministry in Donovan we were making $65 a week plus a parsonage. I believed that I did not need to tithe because I had given my entire life to Christ and was paying for my training to serve Him. Peggy never agreed with this and kept encouraging me to reconsider. I slowly realized that she was right and we started tithing.
We were both hard to convince about credit and we made some major blunders. The day in Glendale, AZ that we cut up all eleven credit cards was an important milestone. However, it took us years to pay off the debts.
There is one story of God’s provision that stands out in our marriage. We have told it many times as we have taught around the world. To us it is definite proof of God’s care and His sense of humor. Someone once said that God watches over children, fools and those mathematically challenged (or something like that).
When Dean was six months old I made a major error in our checking account. I double entered a deposit, and thinking we were better off than normal, paid several bills. Immediately we started getting notices of bounced checks. We were totally out of money and it was two weeks before the next payday.
The evening this was discovered we sat on the couch with baby in arms and sought God’s help. As we were praying there was a knock at the front door. It was Butch Hargett, a rather interesting young man who attended our church (let’s just say he fairly lived up to your stereotype of people named Butch). He had been hanging out at the truck weigh station between Illinois and Indiana (Donovan is six miles from the border) and a truck of potatoes had weighed in 700 pounds over the limit. Therefore the driver had to unload seven sacks of potatoes. Butch said he had permission from the State Patrol and he took three sacks - one for his family, one for his wife’s family and one for us. We nearly cried as he asked, “Can you use a sack of potatoes?”
Butch had no idea of the financial peril about which we were praying at the moment he knocked. But God brought us one hundred pounds of white russet potatoes to last us the next two weeks. How many ways can you fix potatoes when you are eating them three times a day? The owner of the small village store granted us credit for milk for Dean.
We have laughed and cried about this miracle since that day. It was an example of just what Jesus promised, “Your Father knows what you need before you ask him” (Matthew 6:8).
Chapter 12: The Miracle of Birth, Part 1
Robert Dean Kuest II
Of all the miracles that can happen in a person’s life, the miracle of birth is among the greatest. While we were serving in Donovan, IL we welcomed two such miracles into our life. They both come with a story.
We had planned to start our family about the third year of our marriage. So, during our second year we began to put money aside to pay for the birth. As time went by the bank account grew, but the possibilities of having a child never appeared. We went through the testing and the doctor assured us that someday a child should be a possibility.
It was about February on 1968 that we were shopping in Kankakee, IL and saw the most beautiful walnut console stereo. We wanted it so badly. We talked it over and decided we had money in the bank and no baby on the way; why not pay cash for the stereo. Well, you are already ahead of me, aren’t you? Yes, about one month later we discovered that we were going to be parents.
We had become good friends with Jerry and Mary Switzer who were ministering eight miles from us in Martinton, IL. Peggy was taking piano lessons with Mary. She and Jerry discovered near the same time that they also were expecting their first child. To celebrate the impending births, we chose a Chinese restaurant in south Chicago, about eighty miles north.
We arrived at the restaurant and took a table. In our celebratory mood we never noticed how few people were dining at this establishment. We laughed, ate, laughed, talked, and laughed some more. When we called for the bill, the waitress said, “You people are really brave to come out on a night like this.” Oblivious to the news, we asked, “What do you mean?” She said, “They’re burning this town.” We knew that Martin Luther King Jr had been assassinated the day before; but we never anticipated the riots. Jerry and I left the restaurant to get our car, which was parked one block away. We could see huge fires on the horizon. The windshield of every car had been broken between the restaurant and our car. Ours was untouched. We were able to drive safely home.
The doctor had predicted the due date as October 29th. October 28th was the day of the area Men’s Fellowship and I had planned to go. Peggy was feeling some pressure in her back and I believed she was experiencing that because Mary had told her she would and, how many first births arrive on the due date? As the men arrived that night Peggy was more than just a little angry with me. As I started out the door I looked into her eyes and decided that I had better stay home.
At 10:00 that evening we made the seventeen-mile trip through the country to the Iroquois County Memorial Hospital in Watseka, IL. Gumps and Erma Miller, an older couple that had adopted us, wanted to follow us any time day or night in case we had car trouble. So, they accompanied us through the countryside. When we arrived at the hospital I jumped out of the car and ran to the hospital door only to realize that Peggy wasn’t with me. I turned and looked at the car and Erma was helping Peggy out. This is an event that has made me the brunt of much laughter through the years.
Peggy was admitted to the hospital and her doctor, Dr. Roeder, who had just delivered a baby, decided to sleep in an empty room. About 1:00 a.m. the calmness of the hospital was broken when the elevator door opened and a woman rushed in saying that she had passed the umbilical cord. The place went into a whirl and her husband and I were escorted to the family waiting room where he immediately fell asleep. Nurses were running back and forth and would occasionally wake him to sign a paper or explain what was happening. I started pacing the room in his stead. When their doctor finally arrived the doctor went into a minor panic, as he had never done a cesarean delivery.
It was decided to waken Dr. Roeder who was an OB/Gyn. He was so sound asleep that he did not know where he was. All this time a nurse was using her fingers to hold open the woman’s cervix so that they baby could breathe. About 4:00 a.m. a normal baby boy entered the world. The nurse woke the man to give him the news. He talked to the doctor and went to make a couple of phone calls. When he came back into the room he looked at me and said, “I guess it was touch and go there for a little while.” I thought, “Are you telling me? You slept through it and I paced the floor in your place.”
Robert Dean Kuest II made his appearance at 6:33 a.m. on October 29, 1968. When I was born twenty-three years earlier, by father was in the Army, stationed in France. When he and my mother had chosen Robert Dean for my name (after two uncles I never knew), but I was to be called “Dean.” However, by the time my father arrived home from Europe the family had already dubbed me, “Bobby.” To spare the confusions of two Bobs and save our child from having to go through life as a “Bobby,” we decided to call him “Dean.”
There is no greater joy than the birth of your first child. There is nothing more frightening than the birth of your first child. He did not come with an instruction manual and we were rookies. However, God’s grace has brought us through.
Chapter 13: The Miracle of Birth, Part 2
David Alvin Kuest
As different as our two sons are in personalities, so were the differences in their birth stories. Dean’s was full of my rookie mistakes. David’s was full of surprises in other ways.
Since it took so long for our first child to be conceived, we decided to begin a little sooner than “our plan.” Conception in the first month was only the first unexpected detail of “our plan.”
From the time that Dr. Roeder heard the heart beat he was convinced that we would have a girl (this was before the days of ultrasound). As Peggy grew in size all the baby prognosticators pronounced, “You will have a little girl.” We were not surprised at such an announcement because Peggy had (tongue-in-cheek) swallowed her blue and pink OB vitamins with the pink end first (which our friends assured us would mean a girl). We were so sure that we were going to have a girl that we did not even have a boy’s name picked out. Our soon to arrive daughter was going to be “Brenda Diane.”
Dr. Roeder set David’s due date as May 25, 1970. We were a bit concerned because I was supposed to graduate from Lincoln Christian Seminary on June 2nd and Peggy wanted to attend. June 2nd arrived but no baby. My parents arrived for my graduation and to help Peggy.
Peggy was determined that she was going to attend my graduation. Nine plus months pregnant and with a twenty-month old on her lap (before baby car seats) we traveled the 125 miles to Lincoln, IL. My folks rented us a motel room for the night and the next day we drove the 125 miles back to Donovan – no baby.
The next week was Vacation Bible School at Donovan Church of Christ. Peggy sat patiently at home awaiting the baby’s arrival. My mom helped around the house, as Peggy was not feeling too much up to housework. Dr. Roeder told us that if the baby had not arrived by Friday that he would induce labor. Friday came.
The plan was for Peggy to take the caster oil at about 6:00 p.m. and that should get us through the VBS closing program. When I arrived home at 9:30 she was ready to go. We made a quick dash through the country to Watseka. Gumps and Erma were right behind us. The nurse took one look at Peggy and said, “No time for prep, get her to delivery. The baby was born June 12, 1970 at 10:30 p.m. on the gurney, just inside the delivery room doors.
You can, however, imagine my surprise when Dr. Roeder came out and announced, ‘You have a healthy SON!” “A son?” We didn’t have a boy’s name picked out. When Peggy came back to her room, we quickly conferred and put her and my father’s names together. Peggy’s father is Norman David and mine is Alvin Fox; therefore, we decided on David Alvin. (I guess we could have called him Fox Norman.) “Alvin” is a Kuest family name. My grandfather, father and brother are all “Alvins.” My brother has all girls, so we decided to keep the tradition going.
I had accepted a request to be the Dean of high school week at Prairie States Christian Service Camp in Watseka. Our baby was supposed to have been born two and a half weeks before camp and my mother was going to be there to help. David was released from the hospital Sunday afternoon as camp was starting. The camp was three miles from the hospital and it was seventeen miles to Donovan. The camp had a two-bedroom house in which the dean could stay, so we decided to go from the hospital to the camp and my mother (who extended her time by a week) came with us. It is no wonder that David loves camping, hiking and the outdoors. He was a camper before he ever lived in his home.
David was seventeen days late and, although a very solid and wonderful young man, has never been very quick to do anything in life. That is why, in the blessing, which I wrote for his life, I likened him to an Oak tree. And such he is.
Chapter 14: Greenville - God's Woodshed
Two months after my graduation from Lincoln Christian Seminary I was ready to take on the world and fulfill the oath for greatness. The North American Christian Convention was held in St Louis and we packed up the two boys and attended. David was one month old and on the way Peggy got very sick and missed most of the convention. It was a miserable week for her.
It was during the convention that I was contacted by the elders of First Christian Church in Greenville, IL. Richard Jorgenson, a professor at LCC had recommended that they talk to me about becoming their new minister. I was excited to be contacted by this strong church. After a short interview we promised that we would stop in Greenville on our way home.
I remember walking into the building in Greenville and being taken by it size. They had an average attendance that was larger than the population of the Village of Donovan. This would be a great move. Their former minister had been in Greenville for seventeen years. So, the church had stability and a good reputation. We were interviewed and two weeks later we returned to Greenville to preach a “trial sermon.” We began our ministry there in September 1970.
I jumped into the ministry with both feet. The only problem was that I was thinking of the church as a California church. I put great emphasis on the youth and neglected the elderly (wrong move, I totally ignored the culture of the community and the church). We began a great youth choir called Maranatha Singers and sang at a couple of youth rallies and traveled to the North American Christian Convention in Dallas, TX.
I was the only paid minister on staff. Joyceln Nesbit was my very capable secretary. Elenore Heston was a volunteer Christian Education leader. After the youth group grew so strong I started asking the elders for a Youth Minister, however, they did not see the need. They kept referring to leaders they had in the past who led the church without a staff. I should be able to do the same.
In spite of this I was very confident in my success. Attendance was up, offerings were raising and we had more baptisms in the first year than they had in the past three years. I was beginning to receive calls inviting me to participate in conferences. I remember one morning sitting in my office thinking, “Bob, you are on your way!”
This bubble was rudely broken on January 31, 1972. The monthly elders meeting had been the night before and it was annual salary review. During the meeting I presented two new programs that I believed would help the church. After a short dialogue I was dismissed so they could discuss my salary. Later that night I received a phone call from the Chairman who asked me to meet with the elders the next evening. I was so naive that I truly believed they wanted to hear more about my new programs. I spent that day honing them to be able to answer their questions. However, my programs were not the purpose of the meeting. The meeting consisted totally of an opening prayer and the reading of a one paragraph motion that had been passed the night before, “We believe the time has come to terminate the ministry of Robert Kuest. This is your thirty-day notice.” I was asked to leave the meeting and they would give me the details later.
“They couldn’t do that to me, look at all I had accomplished in the months I had been their minister.” I made a two page list of accomplishments and gave it to the elders. It did not change their minds. The next morning (February 1) I went into the Prayer Room we had at the church and sat before the Lord. I cried and prayed, “Lord, do you really want me to be in the ministry?”
I deeply respected these ten elders. They were good God-fearing men who deeply loved the church. I would choose nine of them to be an elder in any church where I served. However, I was totally confused because they never gave a reason for my termination. About a week later an elder came to my office to talk. I closed the door and asked, “Why was I fired?” I will never forget his answer, “We have never been asked to put it into words.”
As I look back on this time I know that they could not give me a “reason” because it was God at work. It was totally His doing. On that night in January God smashed two pots on the potter’s wheel and began to remold them – me and the eldership. God began to do some dramatic work on some new vessels. Hopefully, this time I would be more usuable.
Chapter 15: The Kingman Story
When I was able to come to grips with the obsession that had been driving me through these years I felt it was the recipient of two miracles. The first is that God stayed with me and the second was that Peggy did. My drive led to some very long hours and frequent absences. In Donovan there was no one her age to fellowship with. In Greenville she was stuck at home with two small boys. It never dawned on me until much later what I had put her through.
God did not leave me to wonder about His plan for my life. Once he smashed the misshapen vessel on the potter’s wheel He began to rebuild it. I believe this is when the bucket began to be formed. As I lost my sense of “self” I began to gain a whole new appreciation for God’s Word, especially the doctrine of grace.
Two days after I had been dismissed in Greenville I called Art Harrington, a church leader in Arizona. Art and I grew up in Bakersfield. He was four years older and a role model for guys wanting to go into the ministry. When I went to Pacific Christian College he was in his final year. I asked Art if he knew of any churches in Arizona looking for a minister. He said, “It is interesting that you should call; last night the Arizona Evangelistic Association asked me to chair a search committee to find a minister for a new church plant in Kingman.” Within ten days of being terminated in one church I was on my way to an interview with another.
I would like to say that I came to Kingman, AZ with the correct attitude for church planting. I guess you might say that the potter was still attempting to get the clay pliable. Seventeen people had formed the core of the new church and only after a short meeting I was invited to come. However, my thinking was that I would do such a good job in planting the church in Arizona that the elders in Greenville would be sorry they released me. Once you are driven by an obsession that demon will always be there to raise its head.
When we arrived in Kingman I started a campaign of door-to-door calling. We met in the cafetorium at Manzanita Elementary School and people started coming. It was not long before we had nearly sixty people attending. However, problems were arising between me and some of the leadership. It was obvious that some of our goals were not the same.
There was a deep desire by some to find our own building. The Seventh Day Adventists had just built a new building and their old one was for sale. I was very much against it because it was so small. It was a converted dormitory from the World War II Air Force base that used to be located in Kingman. We were averaging over sixty people and it had a seating capacity of about seventy-five and only one room that could be used for Sunday School.
One night there was a knock at our door and when I answered it I found the church’s Stirring Committee. They came in and said, “We just purchased a church building.” I asked why I had not been invited to the meeting to discuss this. They said, “Because we knew you would try to talk us out of it.”
The first Sunday we met in the building we overflowed with eighty-two people. We were cramped from the beginning. We tried two worship services, but they were both too small to generate energy.
The Stirring Committee started arguing over whether or not I should be allowed to attend meetings. A split was forming between the original core and the new people (I would later learn that this is fairly common in new church plants). Just like in Greenville, I could not understand how people could be upset with my ministry as all church growth indicators were good.
One afternoon the wife of the couple whose dream it had been for this new church called me to their home. She said, “We want you to know that you are not the minister we wanted for this church. We wanted a man who would come to our homes to visit, pray and study the Bible. But, all you have done since you arrived here is bring new people.”
The power struggle raised grew more intense. I still had a point to prove in Greenville; God was still trying to get the clay to cooperate; and the church’s core group was determined to retake control of their dream. It led to my resignation hoping to prevent the congregation from splitting. However, it did not work. They split about six months after I left.
There is another chapter to the Kingman story as God decided I needed a gentle shaking to get my attention once again. As I said, there are two miracles here; neither God nor Peggy gave up on me.
Proceed to Chapter 16