Dear Lord, it’s Thanksgiving Day, and we don’t have anything to eat. I know you’ll take care of us, because you have promised to do so,” was my prayer early in the morning of the most unforgettable Thanksgiving we ever had.
The previous June (1939), my husband, David A. Cavin, had been called to be the pastor of the Bible Baptist Church of El Reno, Oklahoma. In July, we and our two-year-old son, David E., moved to the city and began our ministry. (Our daughter RoJean was born in 1940.) We had been charter members of the Wichita Baptist Tabernacle when it was started by Art Wilson in the 1930s. My husband had been called to preach three years earlier. He worked for the Santa Fe Trail Transportation Company, but his heart was in the Lord’s work. When the church issued a call to him in June, we both felt it was God’s will. I was a 20-year-old pastor’s wife and I was excited to be part of God’s great work.
Before we went to candidate, I was told that the parsonage and church were ultra-modern. Soon I learned not to believe everything I was told. The parsonage next door to the church was fine. But the church had no toilets so the people came to the parsonage to use the restroom. The church building also had a dirt floor. Somehow I failed to see how that was any improvement to the sawdust floor at the Wichita Baptist Tabernacle. My husband had to sprinkle water on the floor before each service to keep the dust down. There were no pews either. We sat on bridge planks. You had to sit still too, because those planks had nasty splinters.
Both the church and parsonage were rented. The properties had not been cared for, either, and the grass was at least two feet tall when we arrived. It may seem strange today, but neither my husband nor I felt these circumstances were unreasonable or intolerable. We both felt it was a tremendous honor just to be called and serve in the Lord’s work full time.
Besides the use of our bathroom, our parsonage was used for Sunday school classes too. Our next door neighbors were confirmed atheists and didn’t appreciate the loud singing by the boys and girls on Sunday morning.
Still, we were kind and friendly to our neighbors. We witnessed to them as best we could and they were cordial to us. My routine after services was much different from a normal pastor’s wife, I’m sure. The first thing I would do was rush home and clean the bathroom. Then, we had to put the furniture back where it was supposed to be. Often, a few of the church kids ate some of the food I had prepared for Sunday, causing us to have some strange food combinations for lunch. We accepted these inconveniences as a small price for the privilege of serving the Lord.
At the start, the church was small, with only 29 members and still fewer in attendance. Those who came had a wonderful spirit, though, and had great compassion for the new pastor and his wife. We were promised $10 per week in salary, but money was not even considered in our decision to move. My husband received his check after all the church bills were paid. This meant we often went without any salary whatsoever. He took no outside job either. We did a lot of visiting and soul-winning. The Lord called us to reach people. We knew that the offerings were given by people and we went after people for Him. When we were paid, we were very grateful, but we both felt unworthy to get money for doing the work of the Lord. Somehow, the Lord met our needs and we always had something to eat.
When Thanksgiving Day came in November of 1939, we were scraping the bottom of the barrel. We had no food in the house except enough to feed our two-year-old son some breakfast. We were both sad because this holiday had always been so meaningful for our family. In the past, we always had more than enough food and usually enough leftovers to feed an army. As that morning went by, with no breakfast and nothing to cook for dinner, our hearts grew heavy. I reminded my pastor husband how God had supplied food for the children of Israel, the widow of Zarephath and her son, and had fed over 5,000 with only five loaves and two fishes. We knelt and prayed together. Our faith was weak and wavering. We knew the promises of God. Psalm 37:25 says, “I have been young, and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.” Isaiah 40:31 says, “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” We asked the Lord to teach us to wait on Him.
About eleven o’clock that morning, my husband teased me. “Honey,” he said, “If we are going to eat, you better get something started.”
I didn’t have anything to fix, but by faith I set dishes out on the table. At noon, the table was bare except for the dishes. Then someone knocked on our front door. As my husband went to open that door, someone else began knocking at our back door.
I answered the back door. There was our neighbor holding a large bowl of mashed potatoes. She said, “I don’t know what I was thinking about this morning, but I peeled too many potatoes for just the two of us. I’m wondering — could you use these?”
Boy, could I! I thanked her and as I came back into my kitchen, I met my husband coming in from the front with a large pan of chicken and noodles. The knock on the front door had been one of our members who had to leave for an emergency. The member asked if we could use their dinner. What a blessing!
From the front to the back of our parsonage, God had provided our favorite food for Thanksgiving dinner. He even used our neighbors who didn’t believe He existed to meet our needs. God was so good to us. He made that a Thanksgiving I will never forget.
Soon after that Thanksgiving, God touched the hearts of one of our families to help provide for us. The Eason family bought their groceries each Saturday. For some reason, they thought about us and they bought an extra bag of groceries and delivered it to us every Saturday. In those early days, if it wasn’t for them, I don’t know how we would have survived, not to say God wouldn’t have done it some other way. During the 11 years we were in El Reno, we saw hundreds of people saved, including Howard Ingram, and the church grew from 29 to 500 members. Our attendance averaged over 300 per Sunday. God has blessed us over and over and over again and in more ways than I can count for all these years.
I have found that God has and will supply all our needs. Perhaps to us at times, He may seem a little late. Yet, in all these years, from July of 1939 until November of 1997, He has never failed to be there for me when I have had a need. We may not get our desires or wants, but He will supply our needs. Nothing lies outside the reach of prayer, except that which lies outside the will of God. I have learned that when we truly wait upon the Lord, He renews our strength, makes us fly, run and walk without being weary or being faint. Thank you, Lord, for being so good.
Maxine Cavin, and her husband, David A. Cavin, are now with the Lord. Their ministry together spanned five decades and three churches: • Bible Baptist Church, El Reno, Oklahoma, 1939-1950 • Castleberry Baptist Church, Fort Worth, Texas, 1950-1964 • High Street Baptist Church, Springfield, Missouri, 1964-1986.
Editor’s note: This article first appeared in the Baptist Bible Tribune, November 15, 1997.
