Plans and Personnel
Gordon’s nature led to him being a compulsive planner. Seldom did he rush into anything that had not been preceded by many hours of prayer and thoughtful deliberation. His 1981 aim was to make Wesley Central Mission keep pace with his dreams for its growth.
Similarly he began WCM’s year by distributing to fellow workers a ten page outline of objectives covering the various programmes, charities, educational services and religious activities.
He set high standards and when he found persons who would measure up, he put them into managerial positions.If he was not happy with a worker’s performance he said so, but with tact so that his criticisms almost appeared like praise. When he visited an institution and saw something that could be improved, he’d present his idea to the manager and say, “What do you think? How about you doing it? You’re the expert.”
If the manager rejected the proposal Gordon listened to his reasons. Usually he succeeded in disposing of the objections, but if it came to an impasse and neither of them would budge from their position, then he called in a third person to hear both sides of the discussion and arbitrate a decision.
When any of his ideas met with opposition at board or staff meetings, he did not railroad them through. Convinced that the idea was right even if the timing wasn’t, he gravely considered the objections raised and then suggested that before making a decision both sides should do more research on the subject.
If that did not bring about his desired result, at the next meeting he re-iterated his reasons for promoting the idea—usually in a speech spiced with humour and anecdote—and won the vote. As a loser was once heard to wryly remark, “Reverend Moyes has great powers of persuasion.”
By now most of Gordon’s associates were aware of his little foibles, and even when they knew that they had been “persuaded” they remained loyal.
As part of his policy for getting along well with people, Gordon listened when anyone—employee, volunteer or departmental head, wanted to discuss anything about their work.
Until the number of staff eventually reached two thousand, straining even his prodigious memory, he knew a little of their background and addressed them by name.
“Hello Victor. How’s the new baby? Have you had a full night’s sleep yet?
“How are you, Mrs Watkins. You told me your son and his family were moving to Rockhampton, did they get away all right?”
In June TCN 9 offered the WCM television programme, TURN ROUND AUSTRALIA $150,000 worth of time and facilities if they would change channels. After due deliberation, they agreed. Their expectation of gaining bigger ratings was realized and they are still with TCN 9.
Shortly after this Gordon blotted his record as the `Perfect Husband.’ For many months Beverley’s sister, had been seriously ill and when she became worse Beverley flew to Melbourne to be with her. When the visit concluded Bev telephoned Gordon the date and time of her arrival at Sydney airport and arranged for him to meet her.
Gordon duly arrived and parked the car. With a dozen mission plans buzzing around in his brain he took up a stand near the door through which he expected his wife to arrive. After about half an hour passengers began to emerge singly or in groups and he idly watched. The flow became a trickle and finally the last heavily- laden traveller straggled past him and still no Beverley.
Gordon sighed. Perhaps there would be a second plane soon. He returned to the knotty problems that were occupying his thoughts.
An hour passed. The whining babies and excited children running to and fro in the carpeted lounge finally roused him enough to look at his watch. Was that really the time? Bev’s plane must be very late. Perhaps she’d missed it. Surely there was nothing wrong?
The dreadful thought that something might have happened to his precious wife made Gordon’s reveries drop from him like a cloak. All his plans for WCM receded into the background as he hurriedly reviewed Beverley’s instructions. Yes, she said she’d be arriving from Melbourne on the 1615 plane. Now it was nearly 1740. What….
Suddenly his brain went into top gear. Beverley had emphasized that she would be travelling on an international flight. He was at waiting at the wrong terminal!
Though she had waited for nearly two hours, tormented by thoughts of his accident, sickness or death, Beverley greeted her `late’ husband with a smile and graciously accepted his explanation.
In July Gordon flew to Canberra to speak at the 30th anniversary of the Churches of Christ in the National Capital. The warm welcome cheered his heart but the cold weather chilled his body.
“It’s cold here. I can’t believe I’ve adapted so quickly to Sydney’s warmer climate,” he shivered as he spoke to Beverley on the ‘phone.
He shivered again when he realised that attaching so much importance to the weather was a sign that his aging process had begun. In an effort to show his disdain of the passing years, he tried early morning jogging in Canberra’s near freezing weather and ended up with a cold that lasted for weeks.
One Sunday night the family returned home from church to find that their house had been burgled. Shocked, they moved from room to room eyeing the disarray. The master bedroom looked the worst. Drawers pulled out and their contents scattered. Sheets and blankets torn off the bed and the mattress upended. The corners of the carpet turned back. Obviously the thief knew all the usual places people hid their money and valuables.
Beverley’s jewellery, the precious pieces accumulated slowly through the years—a few handed down as family heirlooms, others given by a grateful parishioner—all gone.
“It’s not so much their worth,” Beverley blinked back her tears. “It’s the sentimental value. I planned on handing them on to Jenny.”
“I know.” Gordon tried to comfort her. “Anything else that’s gone can be replaced but not those love gifts. They—” He broke off as Andrew said fiercely: “I wish that thief had taken all my toys and left Mum’s jewellery.”
Everyone smiled and the trauma melted. As soon as the police had made their routine check and departed, the Moyes family gathered in the living room and thanked God for all their blessings. Health, happiness, friends, faith, reputation, joy in the Lord, they had so many things that no thief on earth could steal from them.
In September Gordon flew to USA to associate in one of Dr Billy Graham’s campaigns. Each night he took his place on the platform but during daylight hours he was free. This gave him the opportunity to meet Robert Schuller of the Crystal Cathedral. The great man took awhile to warm to this inquisitive stranger from Down Under, but eventually he was won over and replied to questions.
Rev Moyes spoke at the School for Ministers attended by 780 clergy from different denominations. He visited Stanford University, Salt Lake City—he rushed from one place and person to another and arrived back in Australia with six pages of closely typed notes covering new ideas picked up along the way.
However, before he could implement any of them December brought to a head all the financial worries that had beset Wesley Central Mission for years past.
The Moyes family were faithful tithe-payers and although Gordon lost no opportunity for promoting this Biblical method of church support, (Malachi 3:8-12) he did not press the point. He knew only too well that the `hip pocket nerve’ is the most sensitive part of the human body.
As with most charities, the Wesley Central Mission alone could not financially support all of its institutions—it needed outside assistance. Bequests, endowments and government funds helped, but there was always need for more money. This yawning chasm led to an almost constant round of fund-raising activities of which the annual Spring Fair was only one.
Lifeline, begun sixteen years earlier, had doubled its used- clothing output under the capable management of Cliff King. Donated clothing was sorted and the best retained for sale in Sydney to give poor people the dignity of choosing clothing and remaining well- dressed at a reasonable price. Some 35 tonnes was shipped monthly to countries such as Indonesia, India, Bangladesh and Pacific Islands.
As well as that, Lifeline annually handled more than a million calls for help and freely distributed thousands of dollars’ worth of clothing and furniture. Painting and renovating the furniture also provided much needed employment for people whom the Mission was assisting. But these were charitable efforts and there was no way that they could also make significant profits.
Despite the workers’ best efforts, lack of finances had reached crisis point. The Centre was already practising every possible economy and the only way they could save any more money was to cut back on staff. If some of the others took on added responsibilities the mission could manage without several of the junior members. As is usual in any business—`Last on are first to go.’ Ron Schepis, Jenny’s fiance, fitted into this category.
To Gordon it seemed that the General Manager was testing him when he handed over the list of names and Ron’s was at the top. The GM knew that Ron and Jenny were keeping company, but obviously he didn’t know Gordon. Personal relationships would not influence the decision.
It was a delicate situation. Gordon called Ron into his office and explained the crisis and the young man accepted his dismissal gracefully. He realized that he was not the only one to go and he understood that the WCM Superintendent could not show favouritism.
Telling Jenny that her boyfriend had been retrenched was even harder than dismissing him. Gordon broached the subject after dinner that night.
“The Mission’s in a desperate financial position, Jen,” he explained. “There isn’t enough money to keep all the charities going. I couldn’t play favourites, there are several other valued workers being released who have been there longer than Ron.”
Jenny nodded, her eyes brimmed with tears and she couldn’t speak.
“I am really sorry,” her father added gently. “You know that as a family we have always put God’s work ahead of our own preferences. Ron’s a fine young man, Jen, and I know the Lord will work it all out for the best.”
Jenny nodded again and reached for a tissue.
More than two years passed before Gordon heard the end of the story. He and Beverley were at home discussing with Ron and Jenny the plans for the couple’s forthcoming marriage.
“At least you’ll have a little nest-egg to begin with,” Beverley smiled fondly at her only daughter. Where’s your bankbook, Jen? I’d like to see how much you’ve got.”
“Oh, it’s somewhere in my room,” Jenny answered evasively.
“I’d like to see it,” Beverley laughingly insisted. “With all the accumulated interest it must be a worthwhile amount by now.”
Ron and Jenny exchanged glances and then Jenny reluctantly fetched the book and handed it to her mother.
Still smiling and chatting in her usual cheery manner, Beverley opened the book. Her expression changed. “CANCELLED. ACCOUNT CLOSED.” The bold red letters sprang out at her.
Bewildered, Beverly looked at Jenny. “What happened?”
Jenny blushed and appeared embarrassed. Ron took her hand as he explained:
“Remember when the Centre was in such dire financial straits that you had to cut back a lot of staff?” He turned to Gordon.
Gordon nodded. “Yes, indeed.”
“Well, Jenny told me that she had this money. We talked it over and she decided to give it all to the Mission so that the poor and homeless would not suffer. It wasn’t much compared with the need,” he added sheepishly, “but—”
When the secret of Jenny’s deed came out it brought mixed emotions to her parents and it took a few moments for Beverley to control herself and say, “God bless you both.”
Later that night, when the parents were alone, Beverley’s real disappointment surfaced.
“Now they’ll have to begin with nothing, just like we did.” She tried to smile but her lips trembled. “All my years of sacrifice have gone too.”
“Yes, dear.” Gordon’s voice sounded husky as he put his arm around her. “But Jenny’s self-denial helped to feed the hungry and house the homeless. It’s a little like the widow’s mite.”
“Oh, I know,” Beverley choked, “and I’m proud of her. But I intended that money for setting up her home, so that they wouldn’t have things as hard as we did.”
Gordon didn’t need to be a mind-reader to know that Beverley was thinking back to those early years of their married life when money had been so scarce. After Jenny’s birth the three of them had to manage on his slender salary. They had never lacked for necessities but it was only rarely that Beverley could save sixpence or a shilling (and later on 50 cents or a dollar) from her house-keeping allowance to put into a bank account for her only daughter. Later, as each son was born they opened a bank account for him.
By the time Jenny attained the age of eighteen, birthday gifts from relatives and accumulated bank interest had increased “Jenny’s Account” considerably and her parents proudly handed it over.
“This is yours, darling,” Beverley’s eyes twinkled as she gave the bankbook to Jenny on her birthday. “It comes to you with much love from Daddy and me.”
Now it was all gone. The sadness of Beverley’s and Gordon’s shattered dream soon gave way to gratitude and pride that they had a daughter who was willing to sacrifice her own comfort for others’ needs.
