WHEN DADDY WAS SAVED!

From my earliest memories, Dad had been my hero. In the mind of a small boy and in the vernacular of the West, he threw a ten- foot shadow at high noon. He walked tall among the men of the community and his cussin’ was a thing of wonder. His anger was such that I remember seeing teams of horses stand trembling before his rage. As a small boy along the Arizona, Mexico border I never experienced any fear of wandering anywhere, night or day because everyone knew I was Mr. Creels son.

My wife, who only knew him in his later years, could not imagine him as anything but a genuinely gentle man.

While mom tried to instill some knowledge of God in me, Dad was concerned that I should learn manliness.

I was around nine years old when it happened. Mom had been getting a ride with neighbors to a Revival Meeting being held in Somerton and taking my sisters and me. She finally talked Dad into going a couple of nights. One night he refused to go so mom took the kids and went without him.

The next evening, mom issued the call, "Wash up for supper"! In my usual manner, I slapped some water on my face and wiped the grime on the towel and ran to the table. The rest of the family was already seated. I remember that I grabbed for the fried potatoes to get my share before my sisters could take them all. Mom quietly stopped all activity by saying, "Just a minute son, Daddy has something to say." I waited and Dad bowed his head and asked the blessing on the food! I sat there in stunned silence. Finally Mom explained, "Your father was saved last night."
In later years I asked Dad about it and he told how the sermons at the revival meeting had convicted him of sin and in self -defense he had stayed home that night. The silence of the house seemed to accentuate the pleading of the Holy Spirit and he decided to take a walk.
Down to the corrals he went. The Holy Spirit was dogging his steps and he couldn’t seem to escape the weight of sin. Finally, on the far side of the hay -stack, he couldn’t take another step and fell to his knees. It was there that he found peace by surrendering to God and accepting Christ. Not only was he changed but so was the entire family. We often said jokingly that even the horses noticed the difference!

If his faith ever faltered, I never knew it. I continued to learn many things from him and in one of our last conversations, as we sat under the grape-arbor in his back yard, we talked about these things and about his impending death. Since he had a bad heart we knew it could come at any time. Though concerned about Mom, he approached death like a child looking forward to the circus. He actually seemed to look forward to it in anticipation and wonder.
For all the things you taught me and especially for that First Prayer I heard you pray, THANKS DAD!

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO ALL YOU FATHERS.