{"id":4731,"date":"2007-07-07T02:50:43","date_gmt":"2007-07-07T02:50:43","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/regnersmorningcoffee.com\/blogger\/?p=4731"},"modified":"2017-03-24T16:35:19","modified_gmt":"2017-03-24T16:35:19","slug":"another-coffee-break-40-years-below-zero-ii","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/regnersmorningcoffee.com\/blogger\/another-coffee-break-40-years-below-zero-ii\/","title":{"rendered":"ANOTHER COFFEE BREAK: 40 YEARS BELOW ZERO II"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/span><\/div><\/div>

ANOTHER COFFEE BREAK: 40 YEARS BELOW ZERO II<\/h2><\/div><\/div><\/div>
<\/div>\n\n
\n\n

Jul 7, '07<\/st1:date> 2:50 AM<\/span><\/st1:time><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Had I realized that Wednesday was the 4th of July, I'd\nhave mentioned in Monday's post that we wouldn't publish on Wednesday.<\/span>  Guess<\/span> you figured that out, anyway.<\/span><\/b><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Anyway, Howdy, Howdy!<\/span><\/b><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

I trust you had a spectacular 4th without getting your\nfingers burned by fireworks.<\/span> \nWhen<\/span> we were living in Nome and I was just a young tyke, we went out to\nAnvil Mountain for the 4th of July holiday and took some fireworks with us.<\/span>  It was perhaps my first or second experience of\nlighting fireworks.<\/span>  We had\n"sizzlers" and "ladyfingers."<\/span> \nWe had "Roman Candles" and "Chinese Rockets."<\/span> \nAll of that was OK, but it was the "Cherry Bombs" that interested me.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

You know what they are, right?<\/span> \n'Bout an inch or so in diameter, maybe two inches long -- give or take -- and\nthey pack a pretty good amount of powder.<\/span>  In\nthose days it was fun to set a Cherry Bomb under a pile of rocks, or make some\nkind of makeshift "house" out of driftwood or rocks, branches and\nturf, and blow it up.<\/span>  My brother and I went to\na lot of trouble one day to build this "house" in preparation for\nblowing it up.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

I lit the fuse on the Cherry Bomb and waited.<\/span>  Nothing.<\/span><\/span>  Two or\nthree minutes went by.<\/span>  Still nothing.<\/span>  I shrugged my shoulders and decided I had a\ndud.<\/span>  My Dad warned me that sometimes the fuses\nget wet or damp, and don't burn as fast, and that I ought to just leave it alone.<\/span>  Nawwww<\/span>....  Huhh<\/span> Uhh.<\/span>  I wanted the\n"bang," and decided I'd yank the "dud" and put another in\nits place.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Right.<\/span><\/span>  I<\/span><\/span> pulled the\n"dud," clenched it in my left hand while I put another in its place\nand lit it.<\/span>  Maybe ten or fifteen feet from the\n"house," the so-called "dud" suddenly blew up.<\/span>  Whether it was the way I had clenched the Cherry\nBomb, or just the Grace of God, all it did was blow my hand open and leave my\npalm and fingers absolutely black from the powder.<\/span> \nThere was a slight surface burn, but nothing to speak of.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

The shock of the Cherry Bomb exploding in my hand left me\nstanding there dazed.<\/span>  My folks rushed over to\nsee if I was OK when the second Cherry Bomb suddenly blew and showered us all\nwith bits of rock, wood and dirt from our little "house."<\/span> \nDuhhhhh.<\/span>  I<\/span> decided\nI'd had enough adventure for the time with firecrackers, and it was a couple\nyears before I asked my father to buy them again.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Funny thing, though.<\/span>  Part\nof my military training was with the 7th Special Forces, learning the art or\nscience of demolitions.<\/span>  The difference was\nthat we were using shaped charges made from C-3 or C-4 and blowing up icebergs\n(part of our training exercises in the arctic, you know) as big as tankers.<\/span>  Must be something about the thrill of\nthings going "bang," I guess.<\/span>  I dunno.<\/span>  Maybe that first explosion did something to me.<\/span>  You think?<\/span>  Oh well!<\/span>  'Nuff<\/span> of that.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Before we start today, I should tell you that there will\nbe no Coffee Break publication next week.<\/span>  We\nare hosting the West Coast Believers Convention from Anaheim, California here\nat River Worship Center with a live video feed.<\/span> \nFor those of you who are here in the Yakima Valley, the morning sessions will\nbegin at <\/span>9:00 AM<\/span><\/st1:time>, the afternoon sessions at 2:00, and the evening sessions at\n7:00, Monday thru Friday.<\/span>  Saturday deviates a\nlittle with the morning session beginning at 9:30, and the evening session\nbeginning at 6:30.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Coffee's on, folks!<\/span><\/span> \nThe French Press is steeping and steaming.<\/span>  Got\nsome of that really dark roasted Columbian today.<\/span> \nGoooooooodd<\/span> Stuff!<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Mary Mendenhall was a Yupik Eskimo who had moved to Nome\nin 1948 seeking medical treatment.<\/span> \nBy<\/span> the time we became aware of her condition, the medical society had\ngiven her up for dead.<\/span>  With a prognosis of\nperhaps two or three weeks to live, she was dying of tuberculosis, her lungs\nliterally eaten away.<\/span>  (My memory says she had\ncancer as well, but don't quote me on that.)<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

The first time I walked into her house with my father, she\nwas barely conscious and scarcely aware that we were there.<\/span>  At<\/span> age six, I knew that healing was part of the\npackage that Jesus provided, and I'd certainly read in the Gospels about all of\nthe healing miracles that Jesus performed.<\/span>  I'd\nnever seen one, however.<\/span>  This was going to be\nmy first experience.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Harriet Brown was a nurse who had just moved from Toronto,\nOntario to Nome to work with my parents in establishing the ministry there.<\/span>  She was with Dad and me when we went into\nMary's house.<\/span>  It was a pretty grim atmosphere,\nand I wasn't sure I wanted to be there.<\/span> \nHarriet leaned over Mary and made her aware of our presence.<\/span> \nDad then began to talk to Mary about Jesus Christ, salvation, deliverance,\nhealing -- the whole package of Salvation, if you will -- and at an appropriate\nmoment asked Mary if she would like for us to pray with her, and if she would\nlike to accept the Lordship of Jesus Christ in her life.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

In a very low, nearly inaudible voice, she responded,\n"Yes."<\/span>  Dad led her in a prayer of\nrepentance and acknowledgement of Jesus Christ.<\/span>  She<\/span> scarcely finished her prayer when she was seized\nwith a coughing fit and literally splattered her bed sheet with the blood she\nwas expelling.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Dad leaned over, put his hand on her forehead and\ncommanded the tuberculosis and every spirit of sickness and infirmity to leave\nher body.<\/span>  Thinking<\/span>\nback to that experience, it was an unusual prayer for him.<\/span> \nHe was normally very quiet and reserved, and his usual practice -- at least the\none I was most familiar with throughout the years -- was to simply lay hands on\nfolks and declare their healing in a quiet, very unforceful<\/span>\nmanner.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Folks who've known my father will tell you that he rarely\nraised his voice, was almost always understated in the way he expressed himself\nand yet carried with him an undeniable sense of authority that most folks --\nwhether Christian or not -- saw and recognized.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

When he laid his hand on Mary Mendenhall's forehead and\nbegan to speak the name of Jesus, her eyes opened wide and color began to\nreturn to her countenance.<\/span>  She attempted to\nsit up in bed, but Harriet told her just to be quiet, rest and allow the\nhealing to be completed.<\/span>  It was -- to the best\nof my recollection -- about three weeks before we saw her in church, and she\nwas still a bit wobbly (I'd guess that she might have weighed between 70 and 80\npounds the day we went to her home), but her recovery was obvious.<\/span> \nWithin three months, she had put on close to 50 pounds (she stood about\n5'4" in height) and was the picture of health.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Mary's healing and her walk with the Lord Jesus Christ\nbecame a catalyst among the native community in Nome.<\/span> \nHer strong voice and testimony of what the Lord had done for her caused many\ncuriosity seekers to come and see what this Pentecostal preacher was all about.<\/span>  She personally led more people to Jesus\nChrist than I can count.<\/span>  Until our departure\nfrom Nome in the summer of 1953, she continued as a regular<\/span> \nand in the mid-1950's decided she needed to go to a Bible College and prepare\nfor ministry.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

While at that college (memory says it was a\nnative-American Pentecostal college in South Dakota), she met another Eskimo\ngentleman who shared the same call to ministry.<\/span> \nThey married and in the years that followed traveled throughout native\ncommunities along the western coast of Alaska preaching the Gospel and leading\npeople to a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Almost exactly twenty years after she had been raised from\nher death bed, she and her husband took over as pastors of the church my\nbrother and I had helped Dad build at Point Hope, Alaska.<\/span>  The<\/span> ministry in <\/span>Alaska<\/span><\/st1:place><\/st1:State> had come\nfull circle.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

You don't, as a farmer, plow hard ground without running\ninto rocks from time to time.<\/span> \nThose<\/span> rocks can be a real impediment to preparing a field for planting\nand harvest.<\/span>  <\/span>Nome<\/span><\/st1:place><\/st1:City> was just that:\nhard ground with the occasional rocks that became a real pain the neck.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

One such "rock" was a local attorney who took an\ninstant dislike to Dad, to our presence in the community, and to the ministry\nof the Holy Spirit.<\/span>  Nome had seven or eight\nchurches already operating when we arrived, but their pastors were, sadly, just\npacifying their congregations with Caesar-Milquetoast messages and doctrines\nthat permitted the people to live in ongoing sin while believing that they were\n"Christians".<\/span>  Though you certainly\nwould never refer to Alvin Capener<\/span> as a "fire\nand brimstone" preacher, and though he rarely raised his voice in\nemotional fervor, his solid preaching brought conviction and confrontation with\ntruth to folks who considered themselves "saved."<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

This local attorney (we'll call him "Fred" for\nthe sake of this story) looked for every opportunity to make life miserable for\nDad in the hopes that he would leave town discouraged.<\/span>  He<\/span> tangled with the wrong man!<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Our next-door-neighbor was a hardware store owner whose\noldest son was demonized in the true sense of the word.<\/span> \nThis boy (we'll refer to him as "Henry") could be likeable one\nmoment, and a terror the next.<\/span>  No one knew\nwhat set him off, but he would without warning suddenly change personality and\nbecome violent.<\/span>  His father was well aware of\nhis son's propensity for violence and knew that there were deep-rooted problems\nthat needed dealing with, but he never made any effort to address the\nsituation.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

One day during outdoor play activities, Howard and I were\nplaying with Henry when, again without warning, he suddenly picked up a rock\nand threw it hard at Howard ("Howie<\/span>"),\nstriking him in the forehead.<\/span>  Howie<\/span> dropped to the ground bleeding and dazed as Henry\nyelled profanities at him.<\/span>  Dad happened to be\nstanding at the window and saw it happen.<\/span>  He\nran outside and grabbed Henry by his arm, turned him over his knee and gave him\na spanking with his hand.<\/span>  "Don't you EVER\ndo that again, and don't you EVER come back here to play with Regner<\/span> and Howard," he said sternly with about as much\nemotion as you'd ever see.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Henry -- who was nearly twice Howie's<\/span>\nage -- ran home crying.<\/span> \nHenry's<\/span> father happened to be close buddies with Fred, our\nnot-so-friendly attorney.<\/span>  Fred saw this as the\nperfect opportunity to discredit Dad and launch an attack.<\/span> \nTogether, Fred and our neighbor went to the police and filed assault charges.<\/span>  The police showed up at our door and\narrested Dad.<\/span>  He was charged and subsequently\nreleased on his own recognizance.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

When the case went before the local judge who also was a\nvery close friend of Fred's, he declined to hear Dad's explanation of what\nhappened, hearing only the very colorful testimony of the "aggrieved"\nfather.<\/span>  He<\/span> simply\nasked Dad if he had indeed spanked Henry and Dad responded that he had.<\/span>  When he began to explain the circumstances, the\njudge shushed him, banged his gavel down and said, "Rev. Capener<\/span>, I'm fining you $500."<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

In 1950, a $500 fine would be roughly tantamount to being\ngiven a $50,000 fine today.<\/span> \nHad<\/span> Dad taken the case to an appeals court, and the court permitted to\nhear all of the details, there's no doubt it would have been overturned.<\/span>  Anti-spanking laws were not on the books\nin those days, and it was common practice even to spank someone else's children\nin aggravated circumstances -- in Alaska, anyway.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Because the driving force behind this case was the\nattorney, Dad turned to him in the courtroom and said, "Fred, I'm going to\npay this fine.<\/span>  But<\/span> you'll\nfind in the end that you will be the loser for this.<\/span> \nYou do not come against the work of God without consequences."<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Whether Dad specifically quoted to\nhim Isaiah's prophecy or not (<\/span>"No weapon\nthat is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise\nagainst thee in judgment thou shalt<\/span> condemn.<\/span><\/i><\/b><\/span> This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD, and their\nrighteousness is of me, saith<\/span> the LORD."<\/span><\/i><\/b> <\/span>-- Isaiah\n54:17), he was standing on it.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

For about two months following the incident and the public\nhumiliation that Dad took over it, his enemies in <\/span>Nome<\/span><\/st1:place><\/st1:City> crowed over it\nand had themselves a good old time.<\/span>  Their<\/span> jubilation was short lived, however.<\/span> \nFred decided to go on a fishing trip with our neighbor and the judge in a\nlagoon not far from <\/span>Nome<\/span><\/st1:place><\/st1:City>.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

How it happened was never quite clear, but the boat capsized.<\/span>  Fred<\/span> drowned and\nthe judge died not long thereafter from exposure.<\/span> \nOur next-door neighbor barely escaped with his life.<\/span> \nHe remembered Dad's words in the courtroom.<\/span> \nFollowing Fred's funeral, our neighbor came to Dad and apologized for being\nparty to a wrongly-brought lawsuit.<\/span>  He knew\nhis friends had received judgment for their actions and their words against\nDad.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

It was a lesson those folks in Nome never forgot -- not\nwhile we were there at least.<\/span>  Dad and Mom were\nsuddenly everyone's best friend.<\/span>  After\nlaboring to gain acceptance in the community and have a real door of utterance\nwith the people, folks suddenly wanted to be "friends" with this\npreacher who had power and authority with God.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Though he never accepted the Lord -- at least while we\nwere still in Nome -- our neighbor's attitude towards us did a 180-degree turnabout.<\/span>  When I returned to Nome in the mid-1960's\nto minister, he was still there, running his hardware business.<\/span> \nHis attitude towards me was that of an old friend glad to see me back.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

One of the people who was encouraged and influenced by\nMary Mendenhall to begin coming to the church in Nome was a Barrow native by\nthe name of Thomas Kingmayuk.<\/span> \nTommy<\/span> was an alcoholic.<\/span>  Whatever the\ncircumstances that brought him from Barrow to Nome (and they were clearly\norchestrated by the Holy Spirit for a reason), he too was suffering from\ntuberculosis, although his disease was not nearly as advanced as Mary's had\nbeen.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Tommy was certainly on a life trek that was leading him\ntowards the same destruction of his physical body that Mary Mendenhall had experienced.<\/span>  Like<\/span> many\nmembers of his family, he was skilled as a carpenter and tradesman, but his\nattachment to the liquor bottle kept him on Skid Row in Nome virtually living\nthe life of a homeless man.<\/span>  However Mary found\nTommy, she brought (dragged?) him over to our living quarters (which were part\nof the church building itself as an apartment).<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

He stunk to high heavens of liquor when she brought him in\nand could scarcely speak a word without slurring it.<\/span>  Mom<\/span> ran a tub full of bathwater and instructed him to\nget in take a bath while she made a strong pot of coffee.<\/span> \nShe found a pair of trousers and one of Dad's shirts to give him and threw his\nold clothing in the trash barrel.<\/span>  It was\nlikely about an hour before he was sober enough and clear enough to listen to\nDad.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Tommy was coughing blood and the toll the tuberculosis had\ntaken on his physical well-being was very apparent.<\/span> \nMom sat him in a chair in the middle of the kitchen (Dad had built a pretty big\nkitchen for Mom) and kept pumping him with strong coffee while Dad began to\nshare the Gospel with him.<\/span>  It wasn't long\nbefore Tommy was weeping a puddle of tears on the kitchen floor and Dad led him\nin a prayer of repentance and commitment to Jesus Christ.<\/span> \nWhatever residual effects had remained from his alcoholic stupor, when Tommy\nfinished praying, he was absolutely sober and clear-headed.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Mom decided that Tommy needed some TLC. \nWith<\/span> no real place for him to go, she fixed a bed in the dining room.<\/span>  Everything got moved around and the dining\nroom rearranged so Tommy would have a place.<\/span> \nThe next day Dad took some olive oil, anointed Tommy and ministered healing to\nhim.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Tommy Kingmayuk<\/span> stayed in our\nhome for somewhere between a month and two months.<\/span>  In<\/span> that time, we watched him undergo the same\nphysical transformation Mary Mendenhall had gone through.<\/span> \nHe went from a pale, sickly young man (he was 26 years old at the time) to a\nvibrant picture of health and strength.<\/span>  Dad\nhad been doing some contract carpentry for the Air Force base and was able to\narrange a job for Tommy.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Dad began quizzing him about Barrow and asking him what\nkind of ministry existed there, if any.<\/span>  The\nmore they talked, the more a burning desire began to fill his spirit about the community.<\/span>  It was (to the best of my recollection)\neither March or April of 1953 that Dad was able to take advantage of an Air\nForce C-124 flight from Nome to Barrow.<\/span>  Tommy\nhad already been telling his family in Barrow about the changes that had taken\nplace in his life.<\/span>  He made arrangements with\nhis brother, Gilbert, to meet Dad and have him stay in his home in Barrow.<\/span>  "Gilbert" was an English name\ntagged onto his native name, Mongoya<\/span>, (just as\n"Thomas" had been added to his native, Kingmayuk<\/span>)\nand Mongoya<\/span> became Gilbert's surname.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

During the trip, he was able to walk through the community\n(at the time, Barrow was one of the largest, almost entirely Eskimo communities\nin the world with some 1300 - 1400 native residents), meet the people and get a\nreal sense of the spiritual temperature of the place.<\/span> \nThere was one other church in Barrow at the time: a Presbyterian church that\nhad been established under the direction of Sheldon Jackson just before the\nturn of the century.<\/span>  The pastor who was there,\nWilliam Wartes<\/span>, welcomed Dad and said to him,\n"There's plenty of room here for another church.<\/span> \nWe're just not getting the job done."<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

When he left Barrow to return to Nome, there was a very\nclear sense of the direction of the Holy Spirit, and an immediacy about packing\nup the family and preparing for a move.<\/span>  We<\/span> left Nome in the summer of 1953 to travel the\n"states" (Alaska was still a U.S. Territory at the time -- not a\nstate) to share the vision and burden for Barrow.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

This is where we will stop for today.<\/span>  We'll<\/span> continue with this saga a week from Monday.<\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Lack is not supposed to be everlasting: it is a temporary\nsituation until you can grow some Word seed to meet the need.<\/span> \nGod has given us the two things we need to get whatever we desire: Dominion and\nSeed.<\/span><\/i><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

Bless you.<\/span> <\/span><\/o:p><\/p>\n\n

 <\/o:p><\/p>\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n

<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div> \n
<\/span><\/div>
\n\n

 <\/o:p><\/span><\/b><\/p>\n\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Regner\n A. Capener<\/span><\/b>
\n CAPENER MINISTRIES<\/b><\/span><\/o:p><\/span><\/p>\n\n

RIVER\nWORSHIP CENTER<\/span>
\nSunnyside, Washington 98944<\/span><\/o:p><\/span><\/p>\n\n

Email\nContact:<\/span> Admin@RiverWorshipCenter.org<\/span><\/a><\/o:p><\/span><\/p>\n\n

 <\/o:p><\/span><\/p>\n\n

All\nCoffee Break articles are copyright by Regner A. Capener, but authorization for\nreprinting, reposting, copying or re-use, in whole or in part, is granted\n\u2013provided proper attribution and this notice are included intact. Older Coffee\nBreak archives are available at<\/span> http:\/\/www.RegnersMorningCoffee.com<\/span><\/a><\/span>.<\/span><\/u> Coffee Break\narticles are normally published weekly.
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 <\/o:p><\/span><\/p>\n\n

CAPENER\nMINISTRIES<\/span><\/b> <\/span>is a tax-exempt church ministry. Should\nyou desire to participate and covenant with us as partners in this ministry,\nplease contact us at either of the above email or physical addresses, or\nvisit: <\/span>http:\/\/www.RiverWorshipCenter.org<\/span><\/a><\/span>.<\/span><\/o:p><\/span><\/p>\n\n

 <\/o:p><\/span><\/p>\n\n<\/div>\n

<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Had I realized that Wednesday was the 4th of July, I’d have mentioned in Monday’s post that we wouldn’t publish on Wednesday. Guess you figured that out, anyway.
\nAnyway, Howdy, Howdy!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[189,65,93],"class_list":["post-4731","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-another-coffee-break","tag-189","tag-another-coffee-break","tag-july"],"yoast_head":"\nANOTHER COFFEE BREAK: 40 YEARS BELOW ZERO II - Regners Morning Coffee<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/regnersmorningcoffee.com\/blogger\/another-coffee-break-40-years-below-zero-ii\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"ANOTHER COFFEE BREAK: 40 YEARS BELOW ZERO II - Regners Morning Coffee\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Had I realized that Wednesday was the 4th of July, I'd have mentioned in Monday's post that we wouldn't publish on Wednesday. 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