I was visiting with an old friend the other day and we talked about all things ministry. The good and the bad.
During our discussion my friend brought up something I really hadn’t thought of. Dale’s thought was this; “Ministers generally know of other ministers by name. But they don’t know them. Their likes, dislikes, where they were born, their experiences, family, hobbies, how they got in the ministry.
For me I fall into this category. We all know other ministers by name but not know about them.
I have people who know my name but have no idea who I am.
I generally don’t ask of someone that I’m not willing to do. So here we go come learn about Dick Creek. aka, Richard, Dickie, and other sorted names.
I was born in Webster City, Iowa. My Dad worked for the Chicago Northwestern Railway. Every once in a while, Dad and the engineer would let me run the train. Or as they were going out of town, I had to jump off the train where my house was. Dad would always say, “Don’t tell your mother you’re doing this.”
I was a proud Webster City Lynx. Back in those days we dominated our conference sports. I ran track, cross country, and played 2nd base for the high school team.
I learned one valuable lesson from my Iowa Hall of Fame Track coach, Bob Buckley. I was running the 440 and before my heat I asked coach, “How should I run this event. His response, run the first 220 as fast as you can. and then run the final 220 faster.” Lesson #1 Always give your best and don’t give up.
I come from a small family. Dad, Mom, my sister Pam and me. Both of my parents are gone. Both died really difficult deaths. My mom died on Easter Day from pancreatic cancer. The last two weeks in the hospital were challenging. I remember my dad coming up to me and saying you decide when she comes off assistance. I laid in bed beside Mom until her final breath.
Clear lake, Iowa was where I spent a lot of time. My grandfather had a cabin. Growing up on a lake was awesome. My granpa and I were very close. He taught to what every German grandfather thought what a kid should know. **This was the real test of my faith. In a nutshell he disowned my mother, his only daughter and me. Years passed when my mom called and said things were much better. He asked my mother, “When is Dickie coming back?” “This summer Dad.” He was so shocked about my choice of profession. A few weeks later Mom called to tell me granpa had died.
I was so angry at him. Everyone had made amends with him, everyone but me. When I got to the funeral home Mom said, “He’s right over there.” I made my way to the casket and looked in. Yep that’s him. A not so proud moment, I leaned over and called him an SOB. How dare he died. No reunion. He’s buried in a little country cemetery by Rowan, Iowa. I’ll stop and have the discussions we missed out on.
I attended Nebraska Christian College. I was the first Creek to attend college. I remember a recruiter who came to our house, and he talked about credit hours. I had no idea what he was talking about. I started four years on the basketball team. We were very good. Richard Brown was our coach.
*Lesson number 2. My Dad was now working at a washing machine/dryer factory that produced 2,000 units a day. Well Dad had got me a job at the factory…running a jack hammer that summer. A jack hammer! I was headed to my Junior year at NCC. Well, I did not like the job. What could he thought getting me this job. SO, I QUIT. Bad move. My Dad was angry. “Get in the car!” Off to the factory. I had to apologize to the Personnel Manager and ask for my job back. Well I didn’t get the job back. I did get another job. 3:00p.m. to 12:00a.m. wearing 3 pairs of gloves at the same time taking blistering parts out of this giant furness where the average temp. was 132 degrees. Lesson learned.
I’m a lifetime Boston Celtics fan. I got to meet K.C. Jones player and then coach. I’m a lifetime Green Bay Packers fan. I got to meet Reggie White the great Hall of Famer. I remember when we shook hands how mine disappeared in his.
When I was living in Tulsa my son was an all-star on the Little League three years running. One day this guy comes up to me and says, “Hi Dick, I’m Steve Largent.” His son Kyle would play with my son those three years. I was blessed in Steve and I being good friends. (There are stories with this one.)
My favorite ministry was in Jenks, Oklahoma, a suburb of Tulsa. I left northern Iowa to Oklahoma. My first thoughts of Oklahoma was Indians, sand, and cactus. Boy other than the Five Civilized Tribes I was wrong on most counts.
One of my parishioners was R.L. ‘Rollin’ Cowherd. Mr. Cowherd was a lifelong banker. Do you still talk to dead people like I do? One night my phone rang, and it was Mr. Cowherd’s son. “Dick, looks like Dad is going home shortly but he wants to talk to you first.” Rollin said, “Well my friend looks like I’m getting home first. So, I’ll save a chair for you and I’ll see you in a while.” Fifteen minutes later he went to be with the Lord.
While at River Oaks I applied and was approved to be a missionary for Toronto Christian Missions in 1984. My life was changed by the many, many experiences. One of those was being held by communists soldiers at a border crossing. The border was just outside Bratislava, CZ. There I had a face-to-face encounter with the Border Captain. A very mean looking woman. I was surrounded by soldiers with their guns, alerted Guards in the towers, and several German shepherds. That was quite a night. My challenge was she took my Bible. What followed was I’m not getting home. She barked at me and walked away. Moment of truth. “That’s my Biblia.” It was quite an encounter I will never forget.
On a lighter discussion here’s some of my favorites.
Chicago the band, Earth, Wind and Fire, The Dave Mattews Band. Jackson Brown.
Foods: A good old cheeseburger and fries. Salmon. I love bread, all kinds of bread.
Movies: Jeremiah Johnson, Young Frankenstien, Field of Dreams, and yes, The Way We Were. I’m not much of a movie-goer.
I’ll take mountains and lakes over cities. I was an adventure runner for years in the U.S., Canada, and Europe.
Biggest challenge to retaining my faith. My grandson was killed when a car ran a redlight and killed him two years ago. Jamin was a special 18-year-old. Teachers loved him. He was an outstanding baseball player- 90 mph fastball. He changed lives. Try being a pastor, the guy with all the answers, making everything better. Try getting Jamin’s father, my son, to not leave God. Soothing all the other family members. I hated the whole thing. J’s funeral was at the Omaha Storm Chasers Field, the Kansas City Royals Tripple A Team. I was blessed to do J’s service from home plate.
Lesson #3. God and I had a real standoff. I hated what had happened and where was God. After 2 years it still remains very painful. Having been through many terrible things in the ministry, I was not ready for this. You never are.
And finally; My wife Karen and I are empty nesters with a cat and a dog. We have 10 grandchildren (we still include Jamin.)
I love being in the pulpit and having the privilege to preach God’s word…me…go figure.
Take care my friends.
