When I was in third grade my parents decided that I should go to boarding school in Manila to get an American education from Faith Academy. It was hard being away from them, and sometimes I would cry at night when the other boys in the dorm room could not see me, but I always had plenty of playmates. Dad would visit me once a month when he came to represent his region at the field council meetings. I really looked forward to those visits. Dad would always plan something special for us to do together--like go to get Magnolia Ice Cream. Mom wrote regularly and Dad added a note to almost every letter.
I remember the missionary part of the work Dad was involved in at that time (in Boac, Marinduque) was very hard. People would cross the street just to avoid speaking to us when we walked down the street. During public meetings in the town square men would taunt my dad or any other person who would preach the Gospel to the people listening.
It was years before the church in that town was really established, but there are converts from those early days who still correspond with me and my mom. Iddo Olavidez was saved during those years and now has a God-honoring ministry in Manila, reaching street children. Iddo was my best childhood friend!
I remember that my dad was tireless! He never seemed to slow down and always seemed to be consumed with a desire to get the Gospel to more Filipinos.
At the end of my fifth grade year in school, Dad was reassigned to be President of FEBIAS (Far Eastern Bible Institute and Seminary). I enjoyed being a day student at Faith Academy and being able to come home to my parents every night. The students seemed to love my parents and I was the beneficiary of their affection as well.
In my sixth grade year I became very sick with bronchial pneumonia and missed nine weeks of school. It killed me not to be able to play sports (doctor's orders), but sometimes my dad would let me play anyway, knowing I would get sick, because he did not want me to be a frail sissy. I am glad he and Mom did not pamper me.
One time I was so sick I was under an oxygen tent in the hospital. I missed the Venture for Victory Basketball Team (these were U.S. college all-stars who did basketball evangelism) doing chapel at our school that week. Dad, however, arranged for some of these U.S. college all-stars (some were All-Americans) to visit me in the hospital. I was promised that if I was better by the end of the week I could sit on the bench with them when they played the Philippine Olympic team at the famous Rizal Coliseum. Dad ensured that I was on the bench later that week with my basketball heroes. I remember tying the shoes of All-american Clyde Lee from Vanderbuilt University. Dad worked very hard at being a good father and he was.
We memorized Scripture in family devotions almost every night. We had a short devotional time at breakfast before we caught the bus every school day. We (my sister and I) were disciplined when we were not respectful to those in authority over us. We were taught the Bible thoroughly and it was lived before us by two imperfect, but real Christians.
Several things I never doubted growing up. I never doubted my parents love for me. I never doubted the reality of their faith. Dad was wrong sometimes, but he was always quick to ask our forgiveness. This humilty touched my heart, especially as a teenager. I remember my dad saying to me, "Jim, I have never been the father of a teenager before, so you'll have to be patient with me."
My home was grand central station while I was growing up. People were coming and going all the time and my folks ministered to every one of them. I do not ever remember resenting it. They gave themselves to others without neglecting us. We used to have one day a week where Dad would take off (usually Monday--our school met on Saturdays for half the day and we did not meet on Mondays) and we would have a family outing. We would often go to Balera (a public swimming complex), and have a great time swimming together.
The greatest Christ-like quality that my father has shown me is the restoring grace of Christ. When my sin brought shame to him and Mom they never once reproached me. They never excused my sin, but they gave themselves to seeing their son restored and healed. I have felt their love more than ever in the last nine-plus years. Humanly speaking, it is the love of my parents that more than anything else has restored me to Christ and His church.
Dad was consistent. He had shown a love for sinners all his life. He was used mightily to bring many to the Saviour, and when that sinner was his own son he showed the same Christ-like compassion. This convinced me more than ever that Dad was never a professional preacher worried more about his name than the glory of God.
The last few years of his life (we lived together) he would watch me repair furniture. He was full of compliments. He was proud of every piece of furniture I restored even if I was not entirely happy with my own work. My father had learned through the years to be a great encourager. He was as delighted in the good work of others as he was his own. When some of his spiritual sons would visit us from the Philippines, he delighted to hear of what God was doing through them, even though he himself had long ago left active missionary work due to old age.
I loved my father very very much and I treasure his memory. I am so thankful to have been able to live with him and Mom for the last ten years (almost). It was a privilege to be of some small help to Mom when Dad began to fail (though she carried the heaviest burden). I look forward to seeing him in heaven and spending eternity together!
What characterized my Dad? Immense love for Christ and the lost! Indefatigable labor! Perseverance! Humility! Generosity! Great love for my mom! Great love for his kids and grandkids!
I will never be able to express how privileged I have been to have Charles A. Hufstetler as my father.
Jim Hufstetler (Son)
December 22, 2009
