The Spirit of Wildwood

By Randy G. Landes Sr.

It could be stated that this book is about a season. A season of spiritual growth—a season that began when the spirit of God planted a seed in a young man’s heart. It tells the story of how that seed was cultivated by a small group of parishioners in rural West Virginia and grew into a decades-long pastoral ministry filled with spiritual lessons and blessings. The author’s hope is, The Spirit of Wildwood will enlighten a season of wonders among God’s churches.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 18, 2021
• ISBN: 9781639035526

Book preview

Chapter 1

Regaining consciousness in the bottom of that mine crater, I was greatly disorientated and bewildered by no sound (having lost all hearing). I began the crawl up and out of the crater, to stand momentarily with no sense of direction. Walking the perimeter edge of the crater, I started back down the road the way I had come. It was at that point the squad leader got hold of my shoulders and, with a little shake, shouted, Are you okay? I never heard it, but I could tell what he had said by the movement of his mouth.

I answered, I’m not sure. I was completely covered with the debris of the blast. The only thing that appeared to have bled, though, was an ear.

The next thing he said was, Anyone else hurt? I was beginning to hear and remember Larry. I turned to look and saw what was left of him lying at the bottom edge of the road bank. Out of compassion for the ones that have lost loved ones in war, I will not go into detail, except to say that he could not had suffered. Still in shock, I simply pointed to Him. As I regained my facilities, the dilemma began! Why am I alive? I was standing at the very same spot as Larry. Over the years, I came up with many reasoning. But the reality in my mind would cancel them out one by one.

The Work of a Solution

Later: the year 1983. I began to work on a possible solution. A thought that was not new to me, derived from a feeling that would not let me rest. Could God have kept me alive? And if so, why? It’s not like I had not suspected God’s intervention before.

At the young age of five, a terrific storm arose over our neighborhood. We lived in the most rundown house in the neighborhood. With the house shaking in the wind, and the tin roof rattling on loose nails, I took the only action I could think of. Having heard stories of God’s loving care and wanders made me wonder. Would He care for little boys in a storm?

It was then I took my younger brother by the hand and led him into the fair corner of the living room to pray. That next morning, out of six homes on our street, we were the only house without damage (through God). Could the faith of a five-year-old little boy keep a house safe in a storm? Could that same faith change the destiny of a young Marines’ life?

That was the resolve I began working on in the fall of that year, when I accepted my license to the ministry and put out my Gideon’s fleece. (See Judges 6:36–40.) If I was saved to serve, I would see the evidences of it and therefore would have my answer.

Beginning the Ministry

My ministry began as an assistant to a past coworker and friend, a beginning minister of a small country church himself. Who felt I was called before I did? With a respect of privacy to those who may not want to be a part of this book, I will just call the church Wildwood. That should make it familiar to the many who have attended the dwindling number of little churches left from the past generations. Wildwood could be their song, as it goes:

There’s a church in the valley in the wildwood,

No lovelier spot in the dale;

No place is so dear to my childhood.

As the little brown church in the vale.

Yes, you guessed it. That old song, as found in many church hymnals, exists as a testimony to the many small, somewhat forgotten churches that speckle the back roads, hills, and valleys of our nation (that’s my Wildwood). A little brown church in the need of a coat of paint and stuck back in a valley off a country road.

Chapter 2

Apicture of the church of my childhood. That’s where Pastor Rob and I were to begin our work. Pastor Rob and I had worked together before. But neither of us had any experience leading a church. All we had was a calling, with an elderly congregation that knew how to take care of us.

Working together earlier in an assembly plant had made us aware of one another’s faith, along with a skeptical shop manager, who surprisingly walked into the shop one morning full of faith and spiritually on fire, after attending a full gospel revival by himself the night before. God, unbeknown to us, had been working on our shop manager, Clyde, also. And his first ministry was us! That shop closed a year or two later, scattering our ministries out and into the world, landing Rob and I at Wildwood and the shop manager with a ministry of his own.

Accepting and Respecting Ministry

All we had to start with was? Each other, a congregation of eight to twelve, and a spiritual encouragement. Pastor Rob had been at the church a short time before he talked me into joining him. That time made him aware of how much we need to be in prayer. He prayed with confidence. I’d prayed with some uncertainty. There was some issues God and I had to deal with. First of all, my vocabulary skills were greatly lacking, even embarrassing. A problem I never quite knew how to deal with, though I came to believe God did, when He inspired the church to appoint me as their adult Sunday school teacher.

There’s nothing like facing a class full of biblical savvy adults every seven days to inspire one to improve on one’s social and vocabulary skills. What was God thinking? I only thought of quitting two or three times a week, before becoming surprised to see how those elderly, biblical savvy adults took me under their wings. I found myself somewhat a student of my students. As their teacher, I learned things only their years could teach (as they taught me to teach them, we all learned).

I also learned there’s more to an appointment than just accepting it. There is respect for the position of the appointment. Being asked to speak on occasion, my dilemma began. The dilemma was? Pastor Rob thought that I needed to wear a tie while in the pulpit. With a slight snicker, I thought, He’s about to find out how forgetful I can be. And the games began. I’d walk through the door; and he’d ask, Where’s the tie?

I’d reply, I forgot. Time passed as the game played on. Then the day came: I walked through the door; and Rob asked, Where’s the tie?

I replied, I forgot, and out came the tie he was holding behind him. Yes, I’m still wearing a tie in the pulpit today. And more often than not a suit, not entirely because of Pastor Rob or because my wife backed him up but because with the passing of time, I realized a respect for the position of the pulpit.

Starting at the Bottom

Our Backwoods country church wasn’t without its amusements. Many times I’ve joked that Rob started me out at the bottom to work my way up. You see, Wildwood was a small one-room church and had no bathroom,