I grew up in a Christian home mission setting that took a very strong stand on total abstinence from beverage alcohol, tobacco, and illegal drugs. I even joined the Loyal Temperance Legion, the children’s division of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union (WCTU), as an eight year old child and took a pledge to abstain from the aforementioned personal and societal evils.
One of my longtime colleagues and friends recently wrote me that the President of the Kentucky Mountain Bible College, where we had worked together, Dr. Philip Speas, asked her to find some "interesting places for our KMHA senior citizens to take a trip now and then--within reasonable distance."
Her story continues: "We went to the Creation Museum (Petersburg, KY) in December for their Christmas lights display and programs. I've been searching for something indoors during this cold weather. I finally told him I found a great idea. The most popular thing being advertised right now is the Kentucky Bourbon Trail! Now wouldn't that be something we've never done before? Something brand new is always exciting. Right? Well, it certainly gave him a laugh. He even suggested Miss Henrietta Griffith (long-time leader in local, state and national WCTU organizations) lead the excursion!"
I laughed loudly in my office as I read this story!
Showing posts with label KMBC. Show all posts
Showing posts with label KMBC. Show all posts
Monday, January 12, 2015
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Hilma Bouck--A MOTHER IN ISRAEL
We all called her “Aunt Hilma.” I knew “Aunt Hilma” and her husband “Uncle Louie” all of my life. They were my neighbors on the Kentucky Mountain Bible College campus where I grew up.
Aunt Hilma was an incredible, Godly woman. A first impression of Aunt Hilma was that she was warm, yet dignified. A second impression of Aunt Hilma was that her dignity could quickly morph into sternness. But Aunt Hilma had a sense of humor that endeared her to students and campus families alike.
In the classroom, Aunt Hilma became Mrs. Bouck. Her love for the Old Testament, especially the prophecies of Isaiah and Jeremiah was inspiring. As she read the Scripture, her voice was pregnant with emotion. But Mrs. Bouck’s true specialty was church history. I remember how she would tell the stories of the people, their times, and their lives with a freshness and clarity that fueled my imagination.
Mrs. Bouck had studied the saints through the ages. She knew the passion, purity, and perspectives for which the saints had lived and died. She told the stories of martyrdom with tears in her eyes. And then, this dignified lady whom I considered to be one of the holiest people I knew, shocked her entire church history class.
“I don’t know that I have the grace I need to suffer and die for my Lord Jesus, if circumstances of life demand it! In fact, I know that I don’t have the grace to be a martyr for Christ.”
We sat in classroom desk chairs surrounded by wains-coated walls and high ceilings, fluorescent light fixtures suspended above our heads. I was absolutely astonished! “NO!” my mind screamed. “Not Aunt Hilma! She would never disown Christ!”
Mrs. Bouck was still talking. I tuned back in. She had my attention now. “But if circumstances ever demand that I die for my faith in Jesus Christ, I know that God will give me the grace in the moment of need!”
College chapel services were guaranteed to be a special treat when Aunt Hilma led the service. She often led us in singing the historical hymns of Methodism and the church. Each verse was frequently read before it was sung, assuring that the singers maximized their understanding of its message. New vocabulary was always defined and explained. I learned the lesser known hymns of Charles Wesley, Isaac Watts, and others with all of their many verses because Mrs. Bouck insisted we sing them, usually from an ancient Methodist hymnal.
Aunt Hilma never had a great home with finery. She did not possess fine linens, beautiful china, lovely silver, or even her own children. Aunt Hilma and Uncle Louie had never been able to have children. The story was that they had tried to adopt, but had been denied because of the meager income of their sacrificial, missionary lifestyle.
In spite of their childlessness, Aunt Hilma and Uncle Louie were parents to many. When we campus children celebrated birthdays, we could always count on a birthday card from Aunt Hilma and Uncle Louie. Usually the personalized inscription was written on an enclosed piece of paper, the envelope left tucked rather than stuck, and the option to re-use the card was preserved for the recipient by the thrifty givers.
Aunt Hilma was the Kentucky Mountain Bible College Dean of Women during my season of enrollment. That meant that I had to seek her permission for social privileges–dating the girl of my dreams–whom I later married. That event occasioned an interview and a confrontation with the gracious, dignified, nearly stern Mrs. Bouck, but permission was granted!
Beth and I loved Aunt Hilma. Beth even traveled with her on singing groups for the college. She tells how the moment Aunt Hilma awoke and rolled out of bed, she fell to her knees in prayer! Such holy habits were alarming, yet winsome to young people in their late teens and early twenties. However, Aunt Hilma softened her image dramatically when she blew her straw paper off the straw and across the plastic McDonald’s restaurant table careening off the young singers and into the neighboring booth filled with unknown diners!
When Aunt Hilma turned 80 years old, she professed herself to be an octo-geranium! No longer in the classroom, Aunt Hilma assisted in the library. The library was in transition from an analog system of card catalogs to a digital computerized system. Aunt Hilma volunteered to assist with data entry into the computer. Never having used computers throughout her life, Aunt Hilma soon learned the basic tasks and was proving to be a valuable asset in the monumental data entry project. One day another library staff person was using the terminal Aunt Hilma usually used. "I can't do my work," she exclaimed. "Someone else is using MY computer!"
Toward the end of life, Aunt Hilma was diagnosed with cancer. Surgery only seemed to hasten her decline, but her radiance and warmth never diminished.
Never a parent to birth children, but she was “Aunt Hilma” to countless campus children and college students. She was truly a “mother in Israel” (Judges 5:7).
Aunt Hilma was an incredible, Godly woman. A first impression of Aunt Hilma was that she was warm, yet dignified. A second impression of Aunt Hilma was that her dignity could quickly morph into sternness. But Aunt Hilma had a sense of humor that endeared her to students and campus families alike.
In the classroom, Aunt Hilma became Mrs. Bouck. Her love for the Old Testament, especially the prophecies of Isaiah and Jeremiah was inspiring. As she read the Scripture, her voice was pregnant with emotion. But Mrs. Bouck’s true specialty was church history. I remember how she would tell the stories of the people, their times, and their lives with a freshness and clarity that fueled my imagination.
Mrs. Bouck had studied the saints through the ages. She knew the passion, purity, and perspectives for which the saints had lived and died. She told the stories of martyrdom with tears in her eyes. And then, this dignified lady whom I considered to be one of the holiest people I knew, shocked her entire church history class.
“I don’t know that I have the grace I need to suffer and die for my Lord Jesus, if circumstances of life demand it! In fact, I know that I don’t have the grace to be a martyr for Christ.”
We sat in classroom desk chairs surrounded by wains-coated walls and high ceilings, fluorescent light fixtures suspended above our heads. I was absolutely astonished! “NO!” my mind screamed. “Not Aunt Hilma! She would never disown Christ!”
Mrs. Bouck was still talking. I tuned back in. She had my attention now. “But if circumstances ever demand that I die for my faith in Jesus Christ, I know that God will give me the grace in the moment of need!”
College chapel services were guaranteed to be a special treat when Aunt Hilma led the service. She often led us in singing the historical hymns of Methodism and the church. Each verse was frequently read before it was sung, assuring that the singers maximized their understanding of its message. New vocabulary was always defined and explained. I learned the lesser known hymns of Charles Wesley, Isaac Watts, and others with all of their many verses because Mrs. Bouck insisted we sing them, usually from an ancient Methodist hymnal.
Aunt Hilma never had a great home with finery. She did not possess fine linens, beautiful china, lovely silver, or even her own children. Aunt Hilma and Uncle Louie had never been able to have children. The story was that they had tried to adopt, but had been denied because of the meager income of their sacrificial, missionary lifestyle.
In spite of their childlessness, Aunt Hilma and Uncle Louie were parents to many. When we campus children celebrated birthdays, we could always count on a birthday card from Aunt Hilma and Uncle Louie. Usually the personalized inscription was written on an enclosed piece of paper, the envelope left tucked rather than stuck, and the option to re-use the card was preserved for the recipient by the thrifty givers.
Aunt Hilma was the Kentucky Mountain Bible College Dean of Women during my season of enrollment. That meant that I had to seek her permission for social privileges–dating the girl of my dreams–whom I later married. That event occasioned an interview and a confrontation with the gracious, dignified, nearly stern Mrs. Bouck, but permission was granted!
Beth and I loved Aunt Hilma. Beth even traveled with her on singing groups for the college. She tells how the moment Aunt Hilma awoke and rolled out of bed, she fell to her knees in prayer! Such holy habits were alarming, yet winsome to young people in their late teens and early twenties. However, Aunt Hilma softened her image dramatically when she blew her straw paper off the straw and across the plastic McDonald’s restaurant table careening off the young singers and into the neighboring booth filled with unknown diners!
When Aunt Hilma turned 80 years old, she professed herself to be an octo-geranium! No longer in the classroom, Aunt Hilma assisted in the library. The library was in transition from an analog system of card catalogs to a digital computerized system. Aunt Hilma volunteered to assist with data entry into the computer. Never having used computers throughout her life, Aunt Hilma soon learned the basic tasks and was proving to be a valuable asset in the monumental data entry project. One day another library staff person was using the terminal Aunt Hilma usually used. "I can't do my work," she exclaimed. "Someone else is using MY computer!"
Toward the end of life, Aunt Hilma was diagnosed with cancer. Surgery only seemed to hasten her decline, but her radiance and warmth never diminished.
Never a parent to birth children, but she was “Aunt Hilma” to countless campus children and college students. She was truly a “mother in Israel” (Judges 5:7).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)