Shepherds and their Sheep, Part 2 of 2

This second post in our pastoral series comes from another of Atchison County's beloved Shepherds: Pastor Rusty Smith. Rusty is the kind of person and leader we like to celebrate around here. His demeanor (and his commentary, as you'll see below) demonstrates the fact that he always looks for the Good. We are thankful for him, his family, and all others in our county who share their unique, challenging, and critical calling. Thank you for all you do!!!

Serving God in Atchison County is a blessing I have fun friendships, a dear church family, awesome colleagues in ministry, kind neighbors and schools filled with community servants who provide my children with a quality education. I am grateful that my family and I are able to love and be loved here. Since coming to pastor in Tarkio and Westboro nearly five years ago, I have said a statement time and again: “for such a small community, there sure are a lot of people.” What I mean by saying that is it seems I am always meeting people I have not met before. I also recognize there are those in my midst whom I find myself knowing by sight but not by name. I have noticed when local people wave at me, greet me, smile at me, or even simply acknowledge me, it does not necessarily indicate they know me. It is simply a manner and grace interwoven in the fabric of our community. I am always humored by the reaction Carla and I get when we share this relational hospitality in some other communities. Most people love and welcome it. Some are surprised by it…and, well, a few times I feared we had triggered some gang violence…it is still worth sharing.

Too often I hear our community defined by what it is not, or by what it used to be. The greatness of our past is honored best when it leads to the greatness of our today and to the hope of our tomorrows. It is the heart of my hope that the character and strengths of our community can be recognized more and more. If we look around and grab hold of the greatness of our midst, we will be the better for it. I know that such forward-thinking is envisioned by the two founders of this blog, and many others all around us. Being a pastor in our community gives me the opportunity to encourage others to learn from and cherish one’s past. For our past made us who we are today, to make the most of today as a gift from God, and to hope for the best that is yet to come! That is my hope for our community as well.

Striving to make the most of it,
Pastor Rusty Smith
Tarkio AND Westboro United Methodist Church

Shepherds and their Sheep: Part 1 of 2

October is pastoral appreciation month. At my church, its a month long celebration. As we have expressed gratitude for our special pastor this month, I've thought often about the unique role a pastor plays in a small town.  Counselor, social worker, spiritual guide, friend, adopted parent or grandparent, advocate, sports fan, volunteer chaplain, coffee drinker.....the list goes on and on. We have pastors in our community that have served their congregation for generations, attending births, deaths and marriages over the span of their parishoners' lives. And we have had those that have spent just a few years in service to our churches and yet they have left a lasting impression on the church and community.


Over the next few weeks, we thank the pastors that have served in the most specialized of fields, the small town. Whether you are a believer or not a believer, I think we can all agree that pastors of small towns serve in what I suspect is a pretty challenging role and SUCCEED in modeling a true heart of service. Thank you!


Thank you to Rachel Lancey, Pastor of Tarkio's Presbyterian Church for her special contribution this month to the blog and her greater contribution to our community.


          My friends warned me.  “Small towns don’t do women pastors,” they told me.  “They will not welcome you,” they said.  They were scared for my life.  Of course, I found this ironic since many of them lived in places that showed up on the list of the most violent places to live.  But, still, they warned me.  I have to say, they got to me just a little bit.

            “Don’t go to a small town,” they warned.  “It will be too hard there.”  They were worried.  They had heard the horror stories.  Of course, I have heard them, too.  The young pastor moves to the small town and suddenly the fishbowl is brought out.  There were stories where people just wandered in and out of the pastor’s home without knocking or caring, even, if the pastor was dressed.  These, in case you do not get to hear the stories I hear, are tame compared to some of the others.  On top of all that, throw into the mix the idea that I was going to this small rural town as a single, young, female pastor. 

            I truly expected the worst.  I grew up in a small town.  I expected the snide remarks and the sideways glances.  I expected that people would watch my every move and things like social boundaries would be hard to instill and maintain.  But, when a pastor is called (as we say) to a ministry, they go.  There is no questioning (okay... well... there are some questions, but God always wins in the end), you just go. 

            What I did not expect... was the love.  Even from those who are open about the fact that they do not approve of a woman minister, there is something there.  I truly believe that I can call up any of the people I have met since moving to this small community and ask for just about anything and I would get it.  I believe that the hearts of this community are larger than life.  Sure, there are still a few small-town stereotypes that are very much a part of living in Tarkio.  But, nothing compares to the experience of walking through the grocery store and being able to talk to people in every aisle.  Nothing beats walking down Main Street and waving at the passers-by.

            Not everyone in Tarkio likes the fact that I am a pastor.  Most of those who do not like this woman pastor being in town think they are hiding it fairly well.  Some are not trying to hide it at all.  But, generally, people are respectful anyway.  This, I believe, is the difference between life in the city and life in the small town. 

In the city, people do not care who you are if you do something with which they do not agree.  In the city, people get into your face and sometimes things can get ugly.  In Tarkio, people look first at the person.  In Tarkio, I have found that even those who believe and think completely different than I do are still able to see me for who I am.  In Tarkio, we find commonalities first and learn to disagree politely. 

            I am not naive.  I know that the sideways glances and some of the remarks are still out there.  I have heard a few and I have seen the looks.  But, this town supported me during a very rough first year when I faced a challenge much deeper than whether or not someone agreed with my theology.  People reached out to me and hugged me in a way that I never expected. 

            I may always be the “new girl”.  I may always be the “woman pastor”.  Even with all of that, I have found a home here.  I have found a family here.  The best part of serving a wonderful congregation in the middle of rural America is that I can love these people for everything they are and for everything God created each of us to be.  And I know that this community really cares about each other.  It is the greatest blessing we have.  

More than a Prescription

Good morning! This fine post comes from my good friend Rebekah Gebhards. Rebekah is a wife, mommy, devoted friend and PharmD. Rebekah is dedicated to her profession and to her patients and speaks eloquently of the comrade between medical professionals in our community. I consider myself lucky to have a medical team that includes Rebekah, that knows me and my family by name and not condition. Just one of the many reasons that those of us that stuck around...we're the lucky ones.

Rebekah with her husband Chris and adorable son, Gabe (2)

Growing up as a child on our family farm in rural Tarkio, there were many different career paths that I considered pursuing.  First I wanted to be a teacher just like my mom and educate future generations on the elementary school level.  Then I had a change of heart and decided that journalism was what really caught my eye after spending time in Mrs. Schmidt’s language arts class.  However looking back on my childhood experiences, it is now easy for me to see why I picked pharmacy as my profession.  As a child I can still remember the first microscope set my parents gave to me and the hours that I spent analyzing plants and insects, and the many impromptu “biology” lessons we had on our front porch when dad would bring home another animal he had found somewhere on the farm.  Science had always been my favorite subject, and I can still remember making a lighted model of the heart in 7^th grade after my grandfather’s quadruple bypass heart surgery and being one of top finishers in the bridge making contest in physics.  One other particularly defining moment as well was watching my grandmother suffer through surgery and chemotherapy for breast cancer and finally coming to the realization that I wanted to do something to impact the field of medicine. 

            So off to Drake University I went, this country girl from a town that no one in the “big city” of Des Moines could pronounce to compete with students from schools 10-20 times the size of Tarkio High School.  The workload was a bit intimidating at first, but having received a solid background at THS and having learned to juggle many activities at the same time, I quickly acclimated to my new life.  Over the summers I was privileged to have the opportunity to work in rural community pharmacies, large retail chains, and city and rural hospitals.  Once I got through the basic sciences, I was captivated by the clinical aspects of my pharmacy classes and was excited about where my career might take me.  After marrying my high school sweetheart in 2003, I had one year of rotations to complete before I would receive my degree.  As many of my classmates were preparing for clinical residencies after graduation, I too thought that would be the career path I would choose.  I was the top candidate for an ambulatory care clinic residency in Des Moines through the University of Iowa working with physicians to manage patients’ cholesterol, diabetes, and anticoagulation services.  I was so excited to be embarking on this new adventure in life, but as it turned out the Lord had different plans for my family.  My husband learned of a math opening at Tarkio High School and was offered the position, a house opened up for us on one of the Gebhards’ family farms, I was offered a part-time position in Auburn with fill-in opportunities in Rock Port and Tarkio, and the funding for the residency program I was considering fell through.  After many hours of prayer and consideration, we knew the Lord was directing us back home to Atchison County.

            I am so thankful that we decided a little over 7 years ago to come back to our roots and that I get to practice pharmacy in an area that I can truly call home.  I love that when a patient walks through the door I know them by more than their medical history; each one is more than just another prescription.  The small town atmosphere fosters a more personal approach to healthcare and treatment can be individualized by being able to see the entire picture versus just a small snapshot.  We are also very blessed to be surrounded by wonderful doctors, nurse practitioners, nurses, and allied healthcare professionals that are truly concerned with the individual, not just the disease being treated.  The camaraderie and commitment I have experienced amongst those in patient care in Atchison County is second to none, and it greatly benefits the health and well being of those in the communities that we serve.  Practicing as a pharmacist in our corner of Missouri is not just my job, I consider it an utmost privilege to serve a community that has had and continues to have such a great impact on my life.