Clyde Thompson – PaulThompsonBlog

The Circuit Rider’s Library

Posted on May 12, 2016Leave a comment

It’s hard not to want to memorialize life unfairly.

So… I have a personal duty I’ve set before me to begin a journey through the sermons of my dad/pastor. For the first time after opening the box of my dad’s sermons last year after his death I have begun an unexpected journey of reading sermons from what I’ll call the “Circuit Rider’s Library.”

First, I’ll refer to my dad as the “Circuit Rider” because he really was one, sort of. He didn’t travel from church house to church house on a trusted horse – but the early years and last years of ministry he had regular paths he would travel to preach the gospel. He didn’t always travel with a rifle on his shoulder (however, he once lived in a town named Rifle.) But he always traveled with a bible and sermon notes.

Today I begin a series of posts over the coming years called “The Circuit Rider’s Library” where I’ll share sermons I wish I had paid closer attention to when I lived and traveled with the Circuit Rider. (This box is filled with hundreds of sermons dated from as early as 1973 and as old as 2004 – over 30 years of sermons)

Saddle up!

I’ll Miss that Three Minute Conversation

Posted on June 18, 2015Leave a comment

Disclaimer: I realize that when speaking about someone who has died there is a tendency to 
speak with a more grandiose tone than real reality and a tendency to overlook a flaw to 
exaggerate an endearing attribute. Read this short Father's Day tribute with that filter.

My dad was never known as a man filled with lots of words, but there is one thing that never escaped my awareness of hearing him speak; it would mostly be in the response of others when he spoke. People would lean in to hear what he had to say. Not necessarily because he had a soft voice, but because you just didn’t want to miss what he had to say. It might have been because you knew what he was about to say had been taken captive in his mind before it was spoken. It may have been because of his timely manner of delivering a line filled with whit intended to cause joy. In spite of his sometimes relentless teasing, there are few people I’ve known able to speak with genuine kindness.

My dad was known by many names; Clyde, Sam, Uncle Clyde, Poppa, Grandpa, Colorado Clyde, The Circuit Rider, Preacher, Pastor… and my favorite, Dab.

I’ll miss two things this Father’s Day

I’ll miss that short three minute phone call with my dad.
I’ll miss my dad.

“I will open my mouth in a parable; I will utter dark saying from of old, things that we have heard and known, that our fathers have told us. We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the LORD, and his might, and the wonders that he has done.” Psalm 78:2-3 (ESV)

The Best of Who We Are

Posted on October 30, 2014Leave a comment

Dear friends,

As you gather today for the funeral service of Rev. Clyde Robert Thompson, I would like to say how honored I was to visit with him and his dear wife, Shirley, in Amarillo not too many months ago. I have been friends with his son, Paul, for several years, and have come to dearly love that family. Rev. Thompson having served with our Home Mission Board as a church planter since 1971 finally retired in 2006 and moved back to his home town of Amarillo, Texas. Over the 35 years of ministry, he served our Savior and Lord pastoring churches in Colorado and then as Director of Missions in Northwest Wyoming.

Rev. Thompson is a hero. He is a man about whom it will be said, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.” He is the very best of who we are as Southern Baptists. There are people who will never serve on a major committee or be recognized at a national convention; however, people such as myself are aware of who actually gets the work done and serves selflessly and sacrificially for our Lord. Rev. Thompson is a man like that!

May God bless all of you as you celebrate the life of this dear servant.

Sincerely,

Frank S. Page, Ph.D.
President and Chief Executive Officer
SBC Executive Committee

Doss Thompson

Posted on October 27, 20142 Comments

Early this morning my dad finished the race.

Some of the best things about gathering with extended family are the pictures. The stories begin to flow, tears swell, laughter is deep and a consideration of your heritage take residence in the mind.

This is my grandpa Doss Thompson. There is not a date on the photo but he was in the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers during WWI

Unless you are family, you’ve never heard of Doss Thompson. He was my grandfather, my dad’s dad. He died when I was two years old. But in the scope of eternity, Doss Thompson was the father of Clyde Robert Thompson. By the sovereignty of God, God used a man you’ve never heard of to father a man who would take the gospel into towns where few people live and even fewer preachers were humble enough to go.

It was at the age of 9 when that preacher, the son of the man you’ve never heard of, talked to me about my need for a Redeemer. This same preacher did this same duty time after time to countless people you’ve never heard of.

The kind of preacher this preacher wants to be is the kind of preacher who doesn’t think he’s bigger than life. I’m satisfied this week to preach the funeral of a preacher who knew he was not bigger than God.

53 Years

Posted on September 29, 2014Leave a comment

Today is my parents’ 53 wedding anniversary.

It is clearer to me today than ever before of what a picture of enduring love looks like.

It’s more romantic than storybook fables and youthful infatuation filled with dreams of grandeur.

It’s more romantic than a white picket fence around a dream house.

It’s more romantic than a passport filled with vacations stamps from get-a-way locations around the world.

It’s like this picture… A picture of two real people. Two real people who have sought to live their days in the light of gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. Two people bound by a covenant they made to each other and guarding that union to let no one tear apart or destroy. Two people obeying their God for better or worse, in sickness or good health, regardless of riches or poverty. A man and a woman following through to completion of what God joined together.

Happy Anniversary.

The Circuit-Riding Preacher

Posted on August 12, 2014Leave a comment

The circuit-riding preacher used to ride across the land,
With a rifle on his saddle and a Bible in his hand;
He told the prairie people all about the promised land,
As he went riding, singing down the trail:

Last year I had the occasion to site down with the only circuit-riding preacher I’ve ever known. The history of the circuit-riders may prove to be among one of the most unique aspects of the spread of the gospel in the west. My history search shows that John Wesley began and developed an early circuit schedule in Europe to take the gospel to communities without preachers. In America, the Baptist and Methodist employed this strategy to do the same as the great westward expansion began.

The circuit-riding preacher traveled through the mire and mud,
Told about the fiery furnace and of Noah and the flood;
He preached the way to heaven was by Jesus and the blood,
As he went riding, singing down the trail:

This kind of gospel advancement is heroic and rarely recalled today. There are not many books written of these courageous men. When I sat down with this circuit-riding preacher I was reminded of the struggles and hardships of preaching in places that few preachers will venture because there is no fame and glory there. But born of God with a commitment to faithfully preach the Bible sends this kind of preacher into wilderness lands filled with danger and loneliness.

The circuit-riding preacher slept in flee-infested barns,
Even then he felt the comfort of the everlasting arms;
That gave him strength to travel on to churches, homes and farms
As he went riding, singing down the trail:

This circuit-riding preacher I know is blessed of God to have taken this eternal gospel to people from the panhandle of Texas, across the mighty Rockies, and into the land where the deer and antelope play. This circuit rider still lives today. He didn’t travel from farm to ranch on a mule as the early riders did, but his duty of the word was of the same spirit as the early circuit-riders.

Now his Rifle’s old and rusty as it’s hanging on the wall,
His Bible’s worn and [weathered and can hardly be read at all,
but until the resurrection when we hear the trumpet call
His truth keeps marching on].

Today, that circuit-riding preacher is in Amarillo, Texas. He’s preached in places you have never heard of, buried saints throughout the west, he is a rich-poor man, frail and weak. But hear him today speak of His savior as he gasps for a breath is among the sweetest things I know.

the Circuit Riding Preacher, Tim Spencer, 1958

Remembering the Days of His Youth

Posted on June 18, 2013Leave a comment

I recently had the privilege of sitting down across the table with my dad to begin what I will hope to be the start of a biography of his life. There are some stories that must be told. There will likely be reflections along the writing process that will be more touching to the writer than any of the readers, but this is the privilege of the writer.

This is the story of a man captured by grace who had nothing of himself that a Holy God needed and called by his Redeemer to preach His gospel.

This is what the moment looked like as the sun was setting in the west of a man directed of God to go west.

Pierce Street Baptist Church, Amarillo, Texas, August of 1954… My dad shared the story, I’ve heard it many times before, but it’s best when it comes from him. His older sister picked him up from the YMCA and before going home she stopped at Pierce Street Baptist Church because she had been invited to attend revival meetings. My dad didn’t want to go in so he stayed in the car. While waiting for her; “I eventually went in and sat as far back as I could. Everything that he preached was like he knew me, of course he didn’t, it was the Holy Spirit convicting me…”

Endangered or Extinct

Posted on June 15, 2013Leave a comment

Having some time with my father recently has me with a heart of gratitude toward the Lord. I will anticipate some time this coming week to spend extended time with my father to inquire about his joy in obeying the Lord in preaching the gospel. My dad represents thousands of pastors around the world who are content with little of this world to make much of the Kingdom of God. For this heritage, I’m thankful. my joy is in the Lord, my heritage of grace is undeserved from the Almighty.

This is part of that act of grace.

Heavenly treasures are a heritage. The saints of God accept them as a heritage. This is how they can be content with little of this world. A good man, by the grace of God, brings his heart to his work, then it is done well.

I look forward to introducing you to my father in the coming weeks, but for now here is a snapshot:

The term bi-vocational may not be an exact translation of what the apostle Paul did, but it represents his method of ministry. My father, Clyde Thompson, was a hard worker willing to do all that was expected of him to preach. Sometimes it meant painting signs. This kind of sign painting is of an era gone by. It is a craft lost to the modern era of vinyl lettering. The professional sign painter owns a skill that is rarely needed today.

The professional sign painter, is his profession endangered or extinct? He must decide to adjust and embrace the technology of the day or compete with ‘letter perfect’ competition of a computer. I digress; my reflection is less about the industry and more about the lost art and discipline of a hand painted sign painter.

Today, I simply give a brief reflection on my dad and his heavenly heritage. Last week we unearthed a sign he painted to advertise his bi-vocational job “Thompson Signs”. For father’s day, we will rejoice in a common spiritual treasured heritage. (Then, Lord willing, we will gather for dinner at IHOP)

* the spelling of dad with a ‘b’ is my dyslexic way of spelling dad, (dab.)

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