The Journey Estate Sale: Outdoor Equipment and Tools
The Iles Journey Estate Sale September 20-21-22, 2012 8030 Hwy 394 Dry Creek, LA Outdoor Equipment and Tools
Baptist Beer, Katrina, Rita, and Isaac.
This gem is from Hearts across the Water written in 2005. It’s subtitle is “Stories of Hope.” It details the good people and heroic deeds done following the Indian Ocean tsunami, Hurricane Katrina, and its bad little sister, Hurricane Rita. Watching the edge of Isaac breeze through Dry Creek brought back so many memories. Baptist Beer Early September 2005 Dry Creek Camp/ Dry Creek, LA It’s lunchtime at The City of Hope. It is the first Saturday after Katrina. Our evacuees have been with us for six days now and we are getting to know each other well. The watchword of the latter part of the week has been, “When is FEMA coming? When will we see the Red Cross?” There is an undercut of tension that our shelter, being in an extremely rural location and not being an official Red Cross shelter, will be passed over and forgotten about. In the middle of lunch someone cries out, “The Red Cross is here!” Outside the east window a red and white van pulls up. Three workers get out and are greeted by evacuees. Everyone quickly discovers they’ve not come with $1500 debit cards but rather supplies of food and water. Still they are greeted with warm smiles and handshakes. I’ve been amazed all week that whenever any official comes, even if they have no pertinent information, they are greeted warmly. For all of the bellyaching about FEMA and the Red Cross, individuals from these groups are received respectfully. Most of them quickly tell the assembled crowds that they are “worker bees” or “lower echelon” and have no big news. But it is still reassuring to see someone in uniform. Another thing I notice is that every worker I’ve met from these groups has been extremely helpful and concerned. I meet the Red Cross workers and then return to my meal. Suddenly someone charges over to my table, “Bro. Curt did you know they’re bringing in cases of Budweiser water?” Someone grabs a six-pack off the dolly and delivers it to my table. Sure enough the white can is labeled “Drinking Water; packaged by Aeunhueser Busch, Cartersville, GA.” I don’t know whether to laugh or get mad. They quickly reverse the unloading of the high stack of Budweiser water and reload it for destinations where Baptists aren’t in charge. Later I find out they inadvertently left two cases behind. I quickly commandeer them and begin planning some fun with them. We Baptists have a well-deserved reputation for being teetotalers when it comes to alcohol. We like to say we are dry. In Beauregard Parish there is only one small area where alcohol is sold. In fact we are presently in the beginning stages of a liquor election created by a loophole as decided by the state supreme court. I’m against the sale of alcohol for a very simple reason: I’ve seen it hurt too many families. I’ve helped bury way too many young people whose lives were snuffed out by someone driving while intoxicated. I’ve never seen alcohol do any good, but I’ve seen it destroy many a man, woman, and family. In spite of this, I still have a sense of humor about things and these Budweiser waters are passed out to every Baptist preacher I know when they drop by the camp. We have lots of fun with it. Folks even start calling it “Baptist beer.” It brings me back to the allegorical story I once read in the newspaper. It seemed in Texas they were having lots of trouble with the Johnson grass in their crops. The local sheriff had confiscated a huge shipment of moonshine whiskey. He came up with a novel way to dispose of the moonshine and eradicate the Johnson grass. He simply poured the whiskey on the Johnson grass and the Baptists ate it down to the roots. Being a Baptist I’m used to being the butt of jokes like that and can laugh as loud as anyone. My father-in-law, Herbert Terry, has a friend named David Patton. Although Mr. Patton, a former state legislator, is well known in north central La, his dog “Bo” is better known than he is. My father in law told of going to David Patton’s house and the dog being told, “Bo, Mr. Terry has come to go hunting, go get him some boots.” Soon the dog obediently returned with a pair of boots in his mouth. Then the dog was instructed, “Mr. Terry doesn’t have a gun, go fetch him a gun.” Sure enough Bo came back dragging a gun in a carrying case. Then he told him, “Bo, it’s hot today– go get Mr. Terry something to drink.” Quickly old Bo comes back with a can of beer in his mouth. Mr. Patton then scolded the dog, “Bad dog, you know Mr. Terry’s one of those Baptists. Now take that back.” With that the dog left and returned, this time with a can of Diet Coke. I didn’t see this but my father-in-law is a good man and I know if he said it, it happened. In fact I’m so sure of it, I’ll bet you a case of Baptist beer it happened.
A Visitor named Isaac
Shelter from the Storm. Even the wind whispers His Name As the wind has gusted this afternoon, I’ve recalled a song I heard recently, “Even the wind whispers His name.” We’re hunkering down for Isaac in Dry Creek. We’ll only be brushed by the storm but am prepared and praying. Dry Creek Camp and its great staff have opened the camp to New Orleans evacuees. Horeb Baptist Hispanic Church (from the West Bank) has returned with about 100 guests. Mamie Lightell has brought about thirty of her family and church. Horeb Church will have a Bible study/worship service tonight (Tuesday) at 7:30 PM in the Tabernacle.
7 lanes of traffic
We’ve been in Houston for a few days. It’s always a good trip to make me glad I live twenty-five miles from a traffic signal. Trivia: Did you know you can drive from Dry Creek, Louisiana to Pineville and never be stopped by a red light? If you know the path, let me know. As we drove along seven lanes of I-10/I 610 loop today, I had a flashback to about 1976 or 1977. Back to the day they opened the five lane along US 171 North in DeRidder, Louisiana. This stretch is called North Pine and stretches from downtown DeRidder at First Baptist Church northward to Ludington. During my college years, I worked summer for the highway department. That specific summer was the winding down of the five-laning of 171 North. This highway had been a narrow two-lane asphalt road that now was five lanes wide. (Do anyone of you remember the large oaks overhanding on Pine Street near present day McDonalds and Popeyes?) The job had been done in three parts. 1. Two new lanes had been built west of the present roadway. Traffic continued in both directions on the old two lanes. 2. Construction moved to the old two lanes and traffic enjoyed the new concrete 2 lanes. 3. The new middle lane (this was a new roadway plan for DeRidder.) was formed up and finished. Traffic was detoured back to the original lanes which were now wider and ready for use. The fateful day arrived when all barricades and orange cones were removed. I was on a survey crew near West Park that day. I can attest that drivers were using all five lanes in both directions. The middle lane with its yellow stripes really threw off Beauregard Parish drivers on their ways to West-Gibson or The Oaks Restaurant. They drove full tilt down the middle lane as if it was DeRidder’s answer to those HOV high occupany lanes on city interstates. We stopped surveying and watched the comedy of errors. Several times cars stopped nose to nose in a lane with both drivers shrugging at each other. I love the normal patience of area folks. Eventually the DeRidder police showed up to block off the middle lanes and wave cars onto the correct lanes. As far a I know, no accidents occurred but I often think about it while driving along multi-lane highways. I’ve also thought of the DeRidder 5 lane on African roads. On the dusty crowded streets of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. No traffic lights. Few stop signs. Every man and woman for himself. Watching drivers dodge potholes, pedestrians, and Goma bicycles in eastern DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo) Steering around piles of garbage on the corduroy streets of Monrovia, Liberia. Avoiding eye contact on the mean streets of Johannesburg, South Africa hoping to avoid a smash and grab robbery or carjacking. I’d throw in driving in New Orleans in the weeks and months after Katrina. No stop lights. every intersection was a four way stop. It worked pretty well. DeDe and I leave for Uganda after Christmas. We’re excited but apprehensive. Our overseas supervisor asked, “Can you drive a standard on the floor?” No problem. We grew up with stick shifts. The H on the column as well as four on the floor. “Have you driven on the ‘wrong side of the road’?” I felt DeDe fidget. “Can you drive from the other side of the car?” I’ve done that in Ireland. Moving across the seat is more difficult than switching lanes to the British way. Several times I saw Irish cars where the “driver” was leaned over the back seat scolding a kid at 35 KmHr before realizing that it was the passenger not the driver. But Ireland ain’t Uganda. I shudder at the thought. It’ll be the day the five lane opens up in DeRidder. Or the historic day several decades ago when seven drivers on I-610 in Houston spread side to side and drove the speed limit (60 mph). Cars were lined up for miles angrily honking and trying to get past. As Mr. Frank Miller used to say, “Don’t forget to keep it between the ditches.” But Mr. Frank had never been to Africa. On the wrong side of the road And the wrong side of the seat. Bon Voyage and good luck!
Life and Times of Curt Iles Final Installment
Part 7 Final Installation 2005 I had no idea that 2005 would include two more water-related disasters that would further shape my heart. August 2005 brought Hurricane Katrina to the New Orleans area. We’re two hundred miles west and had no wind or rain. However, thousands of evacuees flooded our area. Dry Creek Camp had a history of providing ministry to hurricane evacuees, normally from the Cameron (La) coast. The year before we’d had our first our first New Orleans guests. (Hurricane Ivan) Katrina brought these city folks back with hundreds of their friends and family. We had about 400 evacuees comprised of a Black church, a Hispanic church, and a combination of folks from all walks and backgrounds. We expected them to be with us for three to four days. Then the levees broke. Our camp had a decision to make. Do we turn these folks out and continue our normal patterns of retreats and events? Our staff and board felt strongly that we must and should minister to these folks. We named our evacuation center “The City of Hope” and set up a town council and full-time evacuation ministry. It’s unbelievable what happened over the next three weeks. We laugh that the evacuees would still be there if Hurricane Rita hadn’t come. This bad little sister of Katrina hit SW Louisiana hard in late September. We made the tough decision to keep our evacuees and rode out the storm together. (I wouldn’t do that again.) We were left without water and electricity for weeks so our evacuees began scattering to the four winds. Of course, I had to write a book. It’s called Hearts across the Water and details these three 2005 disasters and the untold heartwarming stories from them. 2006 continued to be a year of growth at the Camp. However, I began to sense a release from my responsibilities as manager. A comment from a coworker and close friend troubled me, “Curt, when you’re out speaking, we wonder if you’re promoting Dry Creek Camp or Curt Iles.” I sought God’s will and felt a tugging from the Holy Spirit that I’d completed my assignment. To stay longer would prevent God from continuing the work He was doing at the camp I had a wonderful young assistant, Todd Burnaman, whom I’d mentored to lead the camp. He’d shown he was ready, so I stepped aside. I felt led to pursue speaking and writing full time. DeDe prayed with me and we made a conscious decision to make this step. It wasn’t the smartest financial decision. I was too young for either of my retirements and for the first time in my life I’d not have a steady check. However, we felt God leading and that is all that matters. I now speak about one hundred times a year at everything from churches, schools, civic clubs, prisons, and mission trips. I’ve just finished my tenth book and my catalog now includes short stories, three historical fiction novels, and a childrens book. I write to glorify God and believe in the statement of the great reformer Luther, “If you want to change your world, pick up a pen.” During these last six years, DeDe and I have traveled together on three African trips: Ethiopia, South Africa, and Liberia. In each setting, we’ve worked closely with IMB personnel, Baptist groups, and native pastors. Additionally, we seek to minister in all areas of Acts 1:8 ministry. We’ve worked with refugees in Fort Worth, churches in the Black Hills, South Dakota area, as well as connecting with ongoing New Orleans’ works. I’ve made two recent trips to Rwanda/Democratic Congo. War torn eastern Congo is an area that gripped my heart and which I feel closely connected to. I sense the great needs of Africa as well as see what God is doing there. I’m excited that our church is actively seeking a partnership with an unengaged people group. My greatest ministry location is the community where I’ve always lived. I know the people, ‘language’ and culture. I seek to be involved in activities where I can minister to local folks. My most satisfying area is through my association with Dry Creek Cemetery. I am vice president of the board and my job is helping families select their burial places. It is humbling to walk beside folks in their time of grief. This has led to my involvement in about 15-20 funerals per year as either the preacher or eulogist. Many of these opportunities are to non-church families. All three of our sons are now married and all are serving the Lord. They’ve blessed us with five wonderful grandchildren. DeDe and I have been blessed with a special marriage. Our personalities are diverse but our goals mesh. I can truly say I’ve never loved her more in these thirty-two years of officially sharing life. We’ve gone through every high and low of living and come out stronger. As I close this narrative, I must voice one of my biggest concerns: how does this leading towards two years of overseas service match with the momentum of my growing writing ministry? Here is where I stand: we feel led to pursue this opportunity of serving as Masters/ISC missionaries. It’s been on our hearts for years and we’re going to move forward until God closes the door. If he doesn’t, we’ll be on the field. I like what my literary agent said on this, “If you feel God leading, you’d better go. I won’t lie that two years away isn’t ideal, but you can write and blog wherever you are.” I’m excited to see how this whole thing is going to work out. I firmly believe in this statement, “With God, the best is always yet to come.” postscript I’m uncomfortable reading over this. However, I strongly feel God’s leading to share it publically. May it encourage some fellow struggler, remind young men and women of God’s faithfulness. That is my hope and prayer.
Part 6 Life and Times of Curt Iles
Part 6 The Camp Years In 1992, I faced another crossroads in my life. I had a total of 14 years in education, and was poised for good things. My mentor and camp manager at Dry Creek Camp was retiring after 26 years. DeDe and I began praying about my applying for this job. She reminded me that even during our college years, I’d talked about leading the camp. The camp had been going through a rough time financially. However, I felt led to apply. The Board of Trustees elected me unanimously and in late 1992 I began the next phase of my service. There were many challenges but God worked in a miraculous way over the next fourteen years. I’ve always been a dreamer and innovative planner. Our staff realized the camp was being underutilized and good stewardship meant serving more guests and having more events. I will always view my years of leading the camp as pivotal and rewarding in my life. This was about the time of Blackaby’s “Experiencing God” studies and his term, “Find out where God is working and get involved” was so true. We were blessed with great involvement of churches, pastors, and volunteers. We balanced getting out of debt with making essential capital improvements such as roofs and coats of paint. It was a great moment when the debt was retired. We began a master plan of renovations and new construction. Most of all, we saw God working in the lives of thousands of youth and adults. We began reaching our area’s black churches as well as having a strong Catholic weekend retreat presence. Our sons were able to be involved in working at the camp. It’s a great place to learn to work hard as a team. DeDe kept the home fires burning, especially during the busy summer seasons. Each summer at Camp, God taught me something new. During Summer 1996, He began speaking to me about my need to be scripturally baptized. I’d been ‘dunked’ at age 7 but hadn’t met the Lord until my teen years. This issue had never bothered me until this time. The more I argued with God (“Lord, this will only confuse folks. I’m camp manager. Chairman of Deacons.”) the more I knew I should do it. When the Holy Spirit finally whispered, “If you want to grow and go on with me, do this”, I made the decision to be obedient. That’s what I shared with our church. “This is not about my salvation, but it’s all about my obedience.” When I was baptized, several other grown men in our church did the same thing. In 1999, we had one of the greatest summers ever. Large crowds, a great staff, and God’s spirit working. In the midst of the summer, one of our teen workers, Brad Robinson, was killed by a drunk driver. He was my son Clay’s closest friend and like a son to me. I now had the responsibility of leading a camp and its staffers through a time of grief and questioning. I grieved and rejoiced through my journal, filling up an entire book. At summer’s end, I presented each worker with a photocopied typewritten ‘book’ from the summer. I was encouraged to publish it and did. Knowing publishers wouldn’t be interested in this type of book, I chose self-publishing. Stories from the Creekbank was released in 2000 and quickly sold several thousand copies. I realized the power that the written word can provide. In 2000, I took my son Clay on a senior trip to Honduras. We worked in missions with an IMB missionary and parachurch organization. It was both of our first trips out of the country and lit a burning international missions fire in our hearts. I’d always been serious about being an Acts 1:8 Christian but limited my “ends of the earth” ministry to giving and praying. I now understood that for me this also meant going. This exciting time was also approaching the most difficult period in my life. I’d experienced insomnia off and on through the last ten years of my life. In 1999, it became more serious. I went long periods on little sleep. My longtime family doctor worked diligently with me and we went through a series of sleep medications and antidepressants. (He once said, “I don’t know what to use next: a hammer or anesthesiology.”) We began to realize that my insomnia was related to depression and anxiety. I know call these “a three strand vine growing together.” I’m not sure what comes first but know they often travel together. In May of 1999, my doctor sent me to Dr. Keith Nabours, a psychiatrist in nearby Lake Charles. Dr. Nabours began a series of medication adjustments and I soon had a good recovery. However, in late 2000 the depression returned with a fury. As I look back I still wonder what brought it on. A key factor was the severe injury of our middle son Clint. Clint suffered a serious hip injury as the high school quarterback and spent time in hospitals in Lake Charles and Houston. I’m not sure this caused my ‘train wreck’ six weeks later, but definitely exacerbated it. Fall is a busy time at Camp. At the end of October 2000, I couldn’t go on. Whether you call it a breakdown, meltdown, or train wreck, I had it. I couldn’t go to work or out in public. Dr. Nabours worked hard on finding the right medication adjustment. A wonderful Christian psychologist, Marvin Douglass, also counseled with me. My depression was deep, dark, and something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. The worst part was the darkness and loss of hope and interest in the things I loved best. I stayed at home or my parent’s during the day (DeDe was still teaching.) DeDe stood closely by me, and our sons often gathered in prayer around me. Clay called me nightly from college. Because my train
Part 5 The Life and Times …
Part 5 This is the fifth installment of an autobiography I was required to write for our upcoming mission position. I share it with no pretense of it being self-glorification. It is simply a timeline of God’s faithfulness in our lives. I have written it with a transparent and honest spirit. The weaknesses are all mine… the triumph belongs to God. Please pray for us as we continue this journey. 1979 DeDe was the school music teacher and I was the science teacher and basketball coach. We joined Palestine Baptist Church and were privileged to serve and worship there for the next six years. It is where I was ordained as a deacon in 1984. I learned so much about life and leadership during my coaching years. That first high school team had no experience and plenty of youth. I had much to learn and we finished the year at 1-29. However, the boys stuck together, working hard and continuing with practice when the season ended. I was later blessed to coach excellent teams in basketball and baseball but this first team is still my favorite. All of the players have been faithful fathers and husbands, and worked hard in their community. The lessons we all learned during that difficult year benefittd us all and led to special relationships that still last. After another year at this school, DeDe and I were offered jobs at my home school, East Beauregard High. I was very fortunate to work on an experienced coaching staff with talented players. It was a time of hard work, long hours, and great success. I loved being in the classroom. I had a passion to teach science as well as coach. I’ve never respected coaches who were lazy in the classroom. I believe everything we do (or don’t do) affects everything else. I had the goal of reaching every student and geared my teaching to capture the hearts of rural students in biology and chemistry. During these years, our first two sons were born. Clay (1982) and Clint (1984) enriched our lives. In 1985, we purchased our first home in Dry Creek community. I also completed my Master’s Degree in School Administration. That same year I faced one of the greatest decisions of my life. I was completely satisfied teaching and coaching. With our principal’s retirement, the new principal offered me the assistant principal’s position. Initially I wasn’t interested but time and prayer led me to accept. I hated to leave the classroom and court but realized I could influence 800 students from ages K-12. It was also a good career move for our future. I understood that I’d leave the close classroom camaraderie with students and fellow teachers. I had a difficult but fascinating job. I handled discipline for the entire school. I’d deal with an 18-year-old senior followed by a crying kindergartener. It was during this time I began writing more. I gathered stories from each school day as well as my rural life. Teachers brought good stories to me and as I wrote and shared, I began hearing, “Have you ever thought about writing a book?” Our third son, Terry, was born in 1989. We had hoped for a girl (Terry Ann) but Terry Curt Iles was a joy from the start. Our three boys were heavily involved in school, sports, and church activities. It was a rewarding but exhausting time in our lives. During the summers I continued serving at Dry Creek Camp as summer staff director. I supervised thirty summer workers and loved every moment of it. It also allowed DeDe and the boys to be involved in the camp’s ministry. In 1990, our principal took a sabbatical and I served as acting principal. It was a rewarding and demanding year. I had to fire two teachers and our faculty faced the breakdown of numerous marriages. I loved the responsibility of shaping the heart of a school and looked forward to moving up in the system. I finished my Masters+30 and we began praying about working toward an educational PhD. After my year as principal, the superintendent recommended me for a position as a supervisor. It seemed a logical step and I felt good about it. The school board was locked in a power struggle with the superintendent and tied on my appointment. My aunt, president of the Board, cast the deciding vote: against my selection. (It’s also a good story.) As a family, we were forced to work through the anger and disappointment on this matter. I have a wonderful relationship with my aunt. Tomorrow: Part 6
The Life and Times of Curt Iles Part 4
In three earlier posts (found below in this blog) I shared about my growing up in Dry Creek. It’s now 1974 and time for college. I chose to attend Louisiana College, our state’s only Southern Baptist college. The next five years (I strategically crammed four years of college into five.) were a key time in my life. I found college coursework extremely challenging and enjoyed it. The small student-teacher ratio allowed good interaction with faculty, many of whom took a deep interest in me. I didn’t declare a major for my first three semesters but took my basics and prayerfully considered what God’s will was for my career. I made many friends through intramural sports, the Baptist Student Union, and dorm and campus life. Being ‘carless’, I didn’t date much but had plenty of friends of both genders. My parents were extremely supportive of my college attendance but didn’t have the finances to pay my tuition and board. Through working during summers and all holiday breaks plus several scholarships and a student loan, I paid for college. I declared secondary education as my major and due to the influence of a revered biology professor, sought a science certification as well as physical education. I felt called to teach and coach and have never doubted that assignment for the next stage of my life. I’ve never believed I was the sharpest axe in the shed but always worked hard and was organized. I was very fortunate to make good grades. My third year of college, my sister joined me at college and our parents bought us an old truck. Later that fall, I became interested in a transfer student named DeAnise “DeDe” Terry. DeDe, like my sister, was a piano major, and I liked how she looked and her sweet smile and winning personality. I tightened up my courage and asked her out. This led to more dates and as they say the rest is history. We continued dating and became more serious over the next three years. We were able to communicate well, had good sense of humors, and our diverse personalities and interests complemented our relationship. Our relationship had a strong physical dimension but with the help of the Lord and our commitments to purity, we were able to keep ourselves sexually pure. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done but one of the most fulfilling things. I became president of the Baptist Student Union and this opened many doors of service and leadership at Louisiana College. A new young college president and a great BSU leader made great influences in my life. I began to recognize that I had leadership qualities and others followed me. This didn’t inflate me ego but instead humbled me knowing the responsibilities leaders have. I graduated Magna Cum Laude in 1979 along with DeDe. We married shortly after and began our teaching careers in a small rural school near where I’d grown up. We moved into an old house where we’d have frozen to death if we hadn’t been so deeply in love.
FAQ on The Journey to Africa
So our friends and readers can know what’s going on, here are frequently asked questions concerning our upcoming journey to Africa as well as our writing, plans, and dreams. When are you going? DeDe and I will first go for two months of training in Virginia. (Oct. 15-Dec.15). We’ll return home for the holidays and leave for Uganda on January 2. Our term will end at the end of 2014. What in the world brought about this decision? Our life verse is Matthew 6:33: Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you. We are simply seeking to follow God’s direction as we feel it in our hearts. We have a precious peace that we’re going to the right place at the right time. We’ve prayerfully progressed through the lengthy application process with the International Mission Board for their Master’s Program. Masters is for couples/singles over 50 who wish to serve overseas using the unique talents and skills they already have. Our official designation will be Masters/International Service Corp. What will you be doing? DeDe will be working with schools, teachers, and homeschooled children as well as being part of the East Africa Embraced Team. I (Curt) will be an Embraced Team member. My responsibilities will include researching, finding, visiting, and reporting about Unreached Unengaged People Groups (UUPGs) in Eastern Africa. I will be writing, blogging, using social media, videoing, podcasting, etc. to share about the people and needs of this area. We will serve as a bridge where groups and individuals can “adopt” an unreached people group. This can range from faithful for this people group and/or making a vision trip to meet the tribe or village. Where will you live? We’ll live in or near Uganda’s capital of Kampala. It sits on Africa’s largest lake, Lake Victoria. It will serve as a central location as we travel to specific areas. See this map of our area. What about your writing? My primary job will be writing stories about the people, groups, and tribes I encounters. I am a writer. It’s what I do. Concerning Creekbank Stories, our blog and website will continue on. My wonderful personal assistant Judi Reeves will handle all communication and book orders. What about leaving Dry Creek? We have peace about selling our home and most possessions. Honestly, it’s exciting to be launching out on a new adventure at age 56. We’re having The Journey Estate Sale on September 20-21-22. Please help us spread the word on this event. Items for sale as well as other information is at our The Journey web page. How can we be involved? 1. Pray for us. Pray for the precious people we’ll be working with. 2. Consider adopting an East African unreached people group and begin praying over them. Let us know what group you select. You can learn more at Joshua Project and IMB Embraced. 3. Pray that our house will sell at the right time and price. 4. Pray that we will keep focus during the exciting and chaotic weeks to come before we leave. Here are various ways to keep up with The Journey: website blog Social Media Pinterest email Subscribe to our newsletter.
The Journey Begins: Iles Estate Sale
HOME PAGE FOR THE JOURNEY ESTATE SALE It’s official. DeDe and I are leaving Dry Creek. Don’t feel sorry for us. We feel we’re following God’s leadership to at least two years in Africa. We plan to travel light and that’s where our Estate Sale comes in. We’re cleaning out our empty next before leaving. It will be a great opportunity to pick up good items at fair prices. This page will be updated with items for sale. Thursday, Sept. 20 1-6 PM Friday, Sept. 21 8-6 Saturday, Sept. 22 8-3 Prices on selected remaining items will be reduced throughout sale. Items may include: home furnishings, tools, dishes, rugs, lawn equipment, plants, appliances, electronics, books galore, sports equipment, sewing items, school items, and much more. Silent auction available on selected items: All sales are final and “as is.” Cash only No early bird sales! To learn more: http://www.creekbank.net See photos, descriptions, and other information the sale. Facebook: TheJourneySale Email curt@http://www.creekbank.net Phone 337 328 7215 or 337 396 5372 Location: 8030 HIGHWAY 394 DRY CREEK LA 70637 Map BOOKMARK this page so you can keep up with the items for sale, prices, and other tidbits. To facilitate, we’re planning The Journey Estate Sale on SEPTEMBER 20-22 Home furnishings Lamps, frames, armoir Tools and Outdoor Equipment Mantis tiller, wrenches, jacks, vises, and much more. Dishes and appliances China set, arm And much more! All items work unless noted. 4 Cylce Mantis Tiller “Grasshopper” model Price:
Christmas Jelly Authors Notes and Photos
This page is for readers who want more. Stay tuned to http://www.creekbank.net. We’ll be adding photos, trivia, and extra stories.
The Life and Times of Curt Iles Part 3
Part 3 of Curt’s Story 1970 onward During my freshmen year of HS, I had a strong sense of that something was missing in my life. There was a void that nothing seemed to fill and a spiritual fever that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It was at this time that I began seriously reading the Bible for the first time. I developed a hunger to see what it really said. The New Testament, especially the teachings of Jesus and Paul’s letters came alive. This was in the early 1970’s and The Living Bible had just been released. I devoured its fresh and modern way of expressing the scriptures. I came to realize that I’d never committed my life to Jesus. I now knew what the void was: I didn’t have Jesus in my heart and had not committed to trust His work on the cross for my salvation and needed to sign my life over to His Lordship. I remember sitting in a car and simply praying what I’ve stated above to Jesus. I have no doubt that I was born again. My life began changing. Not in a dramatic or flashy way but consistently. I didn’t make this decision public at my church. No one explained to me about the need for believer’s baptism. However, anyone that knew me saw the change going on in my life. Through my summer camp work, I was exposed to older youth who modeled Bible study and prayer. I made a commitment (that I still observe) to begin my day in Bible study and prayer. Also, these Christian friends encouraged me in my walk. Many are still my friends forty years later. A pivotal event happened in my life at camp in about 1972. During a youth camp service I went forward to commit all of my life—especially my vocation—to the Lord. I can still go to that spot in the Tabernacle. In fact, I often go there alone and remind the Lord that I still mean it: I’ll go where you want. Do what you want. At age 16, I thought you could only serve the Lord as a preacher or missionary. At the moment, I didn’t feel called to either but was ready and willing. We began a daily lunch Bible study at school. My strong stand for Christ didn’t always make me popular, but I believe even non-Christians respected my commitment. Our rural school was lily-white and when the first black students arrived, I made a decision to befriend and even defend them. I am still close to several of those families. I was involved in many school activities: sports, Beta club, and class officer. I believe my HS friends would describe me as fun yet serious, a lover of pranks and defender of underdogs. Of course I discovered girls. I was a shy skinny big-eared kid and found it hard to ask girls out. Each summer I had serious summer girlfriends at camp (fellow staffers) but those romances ended with the fall. Because these young women were also growing Christians, we kept our physical relationship in check and set boundaries. It was never easy because I was fascinated by sex but had made a decision to save myself sexually for marriage. My high school years were good but never easy. I wouldn’t trade those years for anything but wouldn’t do back for a million dollars. It was during these years that I first experienced some minor symptoms of depression, but didn’t realize what it was. A seminal but important event happened during Christmas 1973. My Uncle Bill, who also served as a mentor, presented me with a journal. His inserted note encouraged me to “write about my life in my own words.” I took him up on it. I still have the note and first journal. I also am currently filling journal # 56. Six months after that Christmas, I graduated high school in 1974 as class salutatorian, senior “Most Likely to Succeed”, and many other forgotten awards. Tomorrow: The journey continues at college Part 4
The Life and Times of Curt Iles Part 2
Yesterday, we started the journey on my required 10 page autobiography. This is part 2. Click on the previous blog post to read part 1. Part 2 A tragic event occurred in 1958 that impacted my family when my six-year-old uncle was run over and killed. I was two and don’t remember the event but it has affected my family to this day—in many ways both nearly positively and negatively. Being the oldest grandchild and close to the age of my Uncle Clint, I became extremely close to my uncles, aunts, and particularly my grandmother. Her Godly heritage and special love was the mortar on the strong foundation I was privileged to have. At age four, my parents moved us to the country on family land in a hamlet called Dry Creek. We lived in a log house for a year as my father and family built the house where I grew up. I started school on the first day a new consolidated school opened and spent the next twelve years in that school, East Beauregard High School. Our school was small (I graduated in a class of 29) but many of them were my classmates for our entire school experience. I also received a good solid education. What our school lacked in accelerated classes and science labs, it made up for in good teaching and interaction. At age seven, our family attended a large revival at the football stadium in DeRidder. During the invitation, I went down with a friend and we were counseled on what it meant to become a Christian. Looking back years later, I realized I was not under Holy Spirit conviction and did not yet understand what it meant to fully trust and follow Jesus as my personal Savior. I was presented to our church and subsequently baptized but I clearly believe I was not born again. Our family was involved in many community activities, especially sports. My father was a superb athlete and loved softball, basketball, and volleyball. It was a true bond in our family, especially between my father and me. As I got older, I always counted the heads of the older players hoping some were missing so I could fill in. I’ve always loved the outdoors. I grew up hunting, camping, and hiking. I still hike yearly and have completed several sections of the Appalachian Trail. I like the feeling of carrying one’s supplies on their back and seeing new country. I’d an odd combination of a man who’s lived in one place all of his life but loves to travel and have adventure. One of the benefits of growing up in Dry Creek was the presence of a large church camp in our community. Southwest La. Baptist Encampment, more commonly called “Dry Creek,” was the scene of huge annual camp meetings beginning in 1925. When I began attending at age 9, an emphasis toward youth, GA’s, and RA’s had replaced the earlier family camps. My official beginning at summer camp was not impressive. The first two years, I left homesick during the week. I jokingly say I set the record for shortest distance homesick (4 miles) and shortest stay (Tuesday.) My youngest son Terry later shattered both records. When I finally stayed for the whole week, I fell in love with all things about this special place. The camp and our local church (Dry Creek Baptist) shared the same location and most of the workers and staff were close to my family. The summer of my 13th year, I began riding my bike daily to the camp and hanging around. I helped with the trash and mowing. The camp manager, Albert Hagan, finally said, “If you’re going to stay around here all day, we might as well put you to work.” Thus began the lifetime association I’ve had with Dry Creek Baptist Camp. I served as a staffer for the next six summers. My parents continued a positive influence in my life. My dad was a surveyor for the Highway Department and my mom, who’d stayed at home until all of us entered school, became a teacher’s aide. As I entered high school, my spiritual life was not yet in order. I’d get “on fire” for God during the summer and drift back into old habits when school started. I wasn’t really bad (not too many chances to be yet) but I wasn’t living for God and my language, habits, and actions did not represent Christ. Part 3 tomorrow . . .
The Life and Times of Curt Iles
Part of our application process to serve with the International Mission Board was writing a 6-10 page “autobiography.” My wife DeDe looked at this requirement and shook her head. “There’s no way I can write six pages about myself.” Curious Curt had a different reaction. “How can I limit it to ten pages?” That’s why we make such a good couple. After finishing this project, I shared it with my three sons. I wanted them to read about the dips, peaks, and times of my life. I was touched by how it touched them. After much prayer, I’ve decided to share it on my website. I do this with trepidation. It’s not really about me. It’s about the faithfulness of God through thick and thin. It is a timeline of how God takes it all: our failures, successes, valleys, mountaintops, and brings out good. May it reflect the place of God’s grace in my life. I’ll be sharing it in sections on this blog. Enjoy! Curt Iles The Life and Times of Curt Iles I was born on June 1, 1956 in DeRidder, Louisiana, the first child of Clayton and Mary Plott Iles. I was also the oldest grandchild on both sides of my family and this led to being raised in an environment of great love and attention. I’ve always been intrigued with my parent’s diverse background. Mom was from a family of primarily German heritage with roots in the Midwest. My grandfather worked for the railroad and moved constantly so my mother grew up in many places. When her dad was stationed in the SW Louisiana town of DeRidder after World War II, she met my father in high school. Dad’s family had deep roots in this piney woods section of Louisiana with our first Iles ancestors arriving shortly after statehood in 1819. Most of my paternal branches have been in what was called “No Man’s Land” since the 19th century. I grew up surrounded by great grandparents, grandparents, uncles and aunts. Several generations often lived in the same home. This background gave me a deep sense of belonging and connection to the people and land I still live on. I like to describe it this way: One side of my family gave me roots. The other side gave me wings. My paternal and maternal sides both had strong Christian heritages in Southern Baptist Churches. My parents brought us up (I have two younger sisters) attending church. Best of all, mom and dad modeled Christian character in the home. What they talked about at church, they lived at home. This model of consistency means the world to me and led to my current personal life statement, “I want to be a man God can use and be respected by my wife, sons, and their families.” To be continued.
