HOW FIRM A FOUNDATION

CHAPTER 7

June 15th, 1997
El Paso Texas
Sierra Vista Rehabilitation Hospital

“He is no fool to give up what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.” Jim Elliot

“Whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.” Jesus of Nazareth


"What more can He say than to you He hath said, to you who for refuge to Jesus have fled? (from the Traditional American Hymn "How Firm A Foundation")
As the ambulance drove the 40 or so miles down I-25 between Las Cruces, NM and El Paso, TX, I began pondering a question that continues to haunt me to this day. "How firm are the foundations on which my life is resting?" Like so many questions that go unconsidered, I had blithely lived 47 years of life, with few real tests to the stability of my life's support structure.

Facing yet another huge change in life, I was now being forced to ask myself that question. When I had been taken to the hospital and was faced with the spectre of life and death, I was hardly concerned with such philisophical query. In my 28 days of residence in room #14 of the ICU at Memorial Medical Center, I was too heavily drugged to give the thought much consideration. When I was moved up to the 6th floor with the rest of the "normal" orthopaedic patients, I was too preoccupied with such things as sitting up or lifting two pound dumbbells or visiting with the countless entourage of visitors who so faithfully came to encourage me and pray with me.

Now, I was well enough to be moved to a rehabilitation hospital - a place Dr. Sunshine thought could be my home for 6 months to a year. I didn't know what to expect. I felt afraid of the unknown and apprehensive about the task ahead; rehabilitation, and perhaps walking again. I didn't know anyone in El Paso really. It was a strange place away - though not far - from my family and friends. Could I cope? Would it be too much for me? Was my life stable and secure on strong foundations. Those were my thoughts that day as the American Medical Response team drove me to my next challenge (this time at a much saner speed than its first race to the hospital the day of the accident). Those are still the questions I ask myself regularly.

It occurred to me that I had lived out a powerful metaphor during the years prior to my accident; a metaphor that taught me a great deal about foundations.

Two of the happiest days in the life of a New Church Development Pastor are the day the congregation has grown enough that they are ready and willing to enter into a building program and the day the building is finally done. August 7, 1990 was the first happy day for Northminster Presbyterian Church. August 31, 1991 was the second.

The Presbytery of Sierra Blanca is an immense, desolate piece of geography comprised of 20 churches, one campus ministry and a few specialized ministries to the poor. In 1980, the leaders of the Presbytery, assisted by folks from First Presbyterian Church conducted a survey among people living along the rapidly growing Elks Club neighborhood of Las Cruces, New Mexico. The question they asked, as they went door to door was, “How would you feel about a Presbyterian Church being planted somewhere in this area?” The response was overwhelmingly positive. “Yes, we would be fine with that. Go ahead.”

A piece of prime real estate was purchased along US Highway 70, about one half mile east of Elks Drive and Interstate 25. It was the area city planners said would grow with the greatest projected population. The Presbytery secured the services of the Reverend George Fry to come and do the development work of starting a new Presbyterian Church. The small fellowship of original members began by meeting in one family’s living room. Before long they were overcrowding that room. Another family had redone their garage area to accommodate this small worshiping group of committed believers. College professors, farmers, NASA engineers, homemakers, students, car salesmen and retirees were all part of this initial “church fellowship” known as North Valley Presbyterian Fellowship. The foundation of a new congregation, made up of “living stones” had been laid for future growth and ministry to take place.


The numbers continued to grow; not just with people living in the immediate neighborhood but with folks from throughout the Mesilla Valley, so named for the small town that was the original settlement along the Rio Grande River. Even though Mesilla dated back as far as 1543, Las Cruces was where the railroad came therefore it became the primary population center of the valley. It is an area rich in history and culture; celebrating the diverse blending of Native American, Spanish and Anglo heritages.

In addition to the stunning scenery of the Organ Mountains and the haunting, mysterious wilds of the surrounding deserts, the valley itself is verdant with year round crops of onions, chiles, cotton, and pecans. Hot Air balloons dot the sky in the cool autumn mornings. Each year, “The Whole Enchilada Fiesta” creates the world’s largest enchilada and provides an opportunity for town residents to gather together and celebrate the area's culture and cuisine. Every September, the air is filled with the pungent, unmistakable aroma of green chiles being roasted. New Mexico is the "Land of Enchantment" and Las Cruces is a unique and special place.

New Mexico State University, a school with an excellent reputation for its Research, Engineering and Agricultural programs attracts approximately 14,000 undergrad students each year and provides many opportunities for sports, economic and cultural activities for the enjoyment and enrichment for the community.

People were now coming to the fledgling church in such numbers that a decision had to be made. Should a building be built on the newly purchased property? Or, should the Presbytery purchase an existing piece of property on Valley Drive? A simple 4,000 square foot building that had been used by another church already existed there. It was comprised of four separate Sunday School rooms and a larger room, that occupied approximately half the building’s usable floor space. That room had served as a worship center for the previous congregation and would be adequate for this new church’s current needs as well. The building was located on a 4 acre parcel right in the heart of the valley and conveniently located on a major road that made it accessible for people driving from any direction. That was the choice.

Financing was secured and the move was made. The property provided plenty of space for growth and development. What’s more, it had been built to blend in with many of the older, adobe, territorial style houses and buildings of the area.

By March of 1981, there were 49 adults who signed a petition asking the Presbytery for permission to charter as a congregation within the Presbyterian Church (USA). A strong foundation had been laid. A new church was well underway.

The initial enthusiasm began to wane some and after a slower than expected rate of growth, Reverend Fry felt his leadership had taken the church as far as it could and so he moved on to start another congregation further south in Dona Ana County, near the borders of El Paso Texas and Juarez, Mexico. The Reverend Richard Schlater was called to be an interim Pastor while a Pastor Nominating Committee was formed and the search for a new pastor began. In September of 1984 the congregation voted to call me as their first full-time called Pastor. Judy and I and our daughters plunged in with eager enthusiasm. Making a commitment to children’s and youth ministry, the church began to grow once again and by 1989, the little sanctuary was filled to near capacity for two services every Sunday.

Thus, the decision was made in January of 1990 to go ahead and begin plans for a new building addition that would give us a new Sanctuary, Offices and Christian Education Space. In August of that year, we broke ground and construction began early the next year.

Watching the work progress right outside my study window, I soon realized how important a strong, physical foundation is for the long term stability of a building. Because the soil in this river valley was heavily comprised of clay – the same kind of clay the locals had used for centuries to make the adobe bricks for their homes – the entire site needed to be excavated to a depth of six feet so that fresh, “engineered soil” could be brought in, andtamped down to form the basis for a strong foundation.

Adobe clay, while possessing many good qualities, is a poor soil foundation to build on because it contracts and expands with the extreme temperature swings of this desert area. In the winter snow can fly and night time temperatures can reach down to below freezing. In the summer time, temperatures can easily reach 105 – 110 degrees. Any building built on this adobe clay would quickly incur structural stress and cracking. The clay had to go. Only when this excavation had been done and had passed numerous tests as to its suitability could the concrete footings and slab be poured. Eventually the foundation was laid. That was a momentous day.

After several agonizing months of slow progress, a building began to take shape with framed walls, arched windows and a very authentic territorial design. Later, when the building was nearing completion, the 70’ long clerestory was framed and completed. It was time to roof the new Sanctuary. I remember driving up one day to see that the large bales of shingles and the rolls of roofing materials had already been transferred to the roof structure and the roofers were ready to begin.

There was an obvious, major problem. The weight of this roof structure, some 35 feet high, was too great for the wall supports that had originally been designed and it was sagging like an old, sway-backed horse. I visited the foreman, Brian, in the construction trailer and pointed out this deficiency. After several days of contemplation and re-engineering, a solution was mutually agreed upon. On both sides of the clerestory, five upright, steel I-beams, each anchored to the main structure of the building would supplement the 2x4 studs that had proven inadequate. Once the solution was decided upon and implemented, work resumed and the new Sanctuary really took on a sense of worshipful reverence. Again, I had realized from this experience the importance of strong foundations. A building that isn’t adequately anchored to a solid foundation risks serious danger.

Without ever having verbalized it in such terms, I had come to realize that one’s personal life also needed to be structured upon strong, foundational support. During the days of recovery and rehabilitation following my accident, I pondered the foundations at the root of my life. Were they adequate?

Clearly, at the base of my life were two identifiable foundations: My faith in Jesus Christ, which, though it had been present in some form for as long as I could remember, had really begun to grow and take on substance during my freshman year in college. It was then that I not only had re-dedicated my life to Jesus Christ, it was also the time when I felt God clearly place a call to ministry upon my life. Since that night in a dorm room at Colorado State College in February of 1969, I had made following Christ as his disciple my number one priority. Wherever it might lead me, I was committed to following Christ. Since Judy and I had just begun dating, she was the first to know of this new sense of purpose and direction in my life; one she has shared and nurtured every step along the way.

My faith story had really been a journey not a fete accomple. Over the years my faith has ebbed and flowed like the continual tidal flows of the ocean. It has known great moments of victory and moments of real discouragement and doubt. I have struggled at times to be faithful and have often battled temptations and selfish, willful desires. In spite of my unfaithfulness, God had always proven to be completely faithful. Even if I was like shifting sand, God was a rock; THE ROCK of my salvation and I could depend on God to never let me slip too far away.
About three months after the accident, I was in Rio Vista Rehabilitation Hospital in El Paso. Each day was a grueling struggle as I worked so hard to rebuild muscles that had long since grown dormant; learn to use a wheel chair and adapt to a new, uncertain way of life. A group of men from our new church in Washington – Calvary Presbyterian - came to visit with us while I was in rehab. I think they wanted assurance that I might some day be able to come and pastor their church as much as they wanted to visit and encourage us. However, their presence was a huge boost to our morale. John, Keith and Charlie came and visited me in my room, and also endured watching me sweat through vigorous sessions of Physical and Occupational Therapy. As they watched me struggle to simply move my legs, let alone use them for walking, I am sure they wondered if I could function effectively as their pastor. One morning, Keith said to me, “Fred, you must have remarkable faith to have come as far as you have through this ordeal.” My reply (and I don’t know where it came from but it seemed right at the time) was, “No, I don’t have remarkable faith. I have tiny faith but it is in a huge God.” I still believe that.

Faith is strong not because of the person who possesses it but in the one in whom it is anchored. For faith to be a strong foundation in a person’s life does not require that that person be a spiritual giant or celebrity. All it needs is to be focused in the great God who created the universe and who rules all things by his omnipotent and loving hand.

I found my strength and my faith waned during this ordeal. But God never did. God was always sufficient; no, even abundant in grace and strength for each moment. Was it my faith that helped me survive? No. It was God on whom my faith rested in its entirety. That was the foundation.

The familiar old hymn dating back to the late 1700s resonates through my heart and mind whenever I wonder whether my foundation is secure.

"The Soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose, I will not, I will not desert to his foes. The soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, I'll never, no never, no never forsake!"