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As I reflected back, I remembered how several kids from the apartments would
gather in the stairwell as my dad sang songs and played his guitar. These kids had
no future ahead, but those nights in the stairwell gave them at least some hope. I
remembered a blind man, ironically named Mr. Nickleye, who would tell stories
on the stoop. People’s names and faces started coming back to me: Katy, the unwed
mother who was one of the first converts baptized; Pablo, the oldest; Jack, the truck
driver and on and on. I always told people I was a PK—a preacher’s kid. It finally
dawned on me, though, in that moment behind the U-Haul, that I was not just a
preacher’s kid but that I was a CPK—a church planter’s kid! I had the opportunity
of seeing a church start from scratch that is still in existence today.
Fast forward a few years as we start a Deaf church in Ohio. As we move, what
thoughts will be going through my own children’s minds behind a U-Haul as
church planter’s kids? What experiences will they have? What challenges will
they face? Who are the Deaf Katys, Pablos, and Jacks who will become part of
their memories? The rest remains to be seen. I do know one thing, though—I will
caution them NOT to roll the window down and let their hair flap in the wind!
Editor’s note: Scott and Tricia Crabtree and their family have recently moved to
the Columbus, Ohio, area and are beginning Deaf Bible studies to prepare for the
start of Lifesigns Deaf Baptist Church. W