More from Kathleen Berg Spencer

 Kathleen Berg Spencer

Part 1 and Part 2 This is not about me, though it is my story. This is about when God calls us; he goes before us, and we are able to do more than we could ask or even imagine!

1986.. Bill and I were attending Lyncourt Wesleyan Church in Syracuse, NY and teaching a new converts Sunday School class. My Mom, who had been widowed, was an ordained minister and was pastoring the Onondaga Indian Reservation Wesleyan Church in her retirement. My Dad had pastored there prior to becoming ill. I loved the people and having grown up with Native Americans in South America, I felt very much at home with them.

One day I began to feel very compelled to help my Mom with the work. Bill had never shown any interest in that ministry so I wasn't sure how he would respond, but when I told him it is what I believed we should be doing he immediately agreed. I was totally surprised but thrilled. I also did not know that it was the beginning of an amazing journey God had orchestrated.

My next dilemma was to find someone to teach our Sunday School class. We agreed not to tell anyone what we were planning but to pray. If God provided a replacement for us we would know it truly was what God was calling us to do. So we put out our "fleece". Two weeks later we had just finished our Sunday School class and were walking to the sanctuary for morning worship when a man met us and said, "I hope you guys aren't offended but I truly believe God wants me to teach your Sunday School class." What an amazing God we serve! We joyfully gave our class over to him and began attending Onondaga.

(To be continued)

Part 2

My heart was for the children and I took over the ministry to them. The first thing I discovered is that the Native kids were very different than city kids in their response to Sunday School and Children's Church. They were thrilled to be there and they listened with rapt attention and participated. It was obvious they had been taught to respect their elders and did not have the attitude of entitlement that so many children have.

I was "tickled" one day while teaching my Sunday School class of 9, 10 and 11 year olds, when one of the kids asked me what my clan was. They were totally surprised to find out that I was not Native American.

I was concerned that we didn't have more children coming so I made it a focused matter of prayer. The very next Sunday to my absolute shock and joy 12 new kids came walking through the door. I was also very pleased that others stepped up to the plate to help with this ministry. A couple of the kids told me that they were made fun of on the school bus because they attended our church.

We were there for two years and unbeknownst to any of us my Mom was exhibiting signs of dementia as she started to lose her place more and more while preaching and told the D.S. that she was ready to officially retire. There was no one to take over the work and the D.S told us that the district was talking about closing it. What happened next would change our lives forever after. Without hesitation Bill said, "I'll do it until you can find someone else." What a shocker that was! He had never preached nor had any inclination to but was soon to be the new Pastor at Onondaga while still working a full time job at G.M. As this was also the calling on my life I jumped into the ministry with everything I had, doing the midweek Bible study, children's program and visitation.

Some of the visits were extremely interesting. Especially the ones where I was called at 2 in the morning because someone was in the hospital due to an overdose. On one of those calls the young man told me that nobody cared anything about him. My response back to him was, "Don't you dare say no one cares about you! It is 2:00 in the morning and I should be sound asleep. Instead I am here because I DO care about you!" We had a great visit as I shared with him the one who cared the most.

One of the things that was extremely challenging was the huge spiritual warfare that was waging all the time. I know it is everywhere but it was tangible out there. Thankfully, I found some wonderful and not off the wall books on the subject and used them frequently. I was so happy that "Greater is He that is in me than He that is in the world".

One day I was hit with extreme depression. Another church in our district called me on a Friday and asked how they could pray for us. I shared with the person what I had been going through and they told me they would pray all weekend. On Sunday morning I got up and felt overwhelmed with depression and did not have any desire to go to church. I wasn't awake very long when suddenly I was hit with unspeakable joy. In the middle of the living room I began to sing and dance in rapturous praise. That kind of depression never hit me again.

One Sunday a beautiful little girl walked up the sidewalk coming to church, holding the hand of an old man. I didn't know then that she would become an integral part of our lives. She started attending Sunday School and church regularly. One day she took me home to meet her mother. Her mother was around 42 and had been an alcoholic since she was 11 years old. She didn't know what it was to live life sober. We became good friends and I would often visit her. One day she asked Bill to dedicate her daughter and asked us if we would be her godparents. We were very honored and said yes. I spent a lot of time with the girl, and she lived with us for a summer. It put a crimp in her style as she had been totally on her own for so many years and now she had a "Mom" and a "Dad" putting parameters on her. After we were there for two years Bill had a month vacation through GM and we decided to take it as we both needed the break. I had distanced myself from this lady as I was pouring so much time into her and she had no heart for what I was offering, and others were being neglected. Just before we left, the lady called me and told me she was scared as her eyes and skin were yellow. I told her to go to detox and we'd see her after we got home.

(To be continued)