Faith of My Father
Recently God has pressed on my heart the memory of my father, who passed away two years ago on September 30 2008.
I remember as a child, our church had pre-service prayer in a room back behind the main auditorium. My father would make us kids go back to the prayer room with him and my mom, and we couldn’t play around, we had to kneel down and pray with them. After only a few minutes I was prayed out and anxious to get out of there, but I had to stay, and keep praying. I didn’t understand how people there were able to keep thinking about more things to pray about. I still don’t like to pray for long periods, and my conversations with God now are usually much shorter and far less formal than those childhood prayer times, but thanks to my father I now understand the importance of prayer.
I remember as a child, my father would make us kids spend time reading the Bible. This wasn’t a formal family Bible read (although we did that too), rather we were expected to set aside time out of our own day, and go read the Bible for ourselves. Every so often dad would check up on us, and if we had slacked off and stopped doing it he would make us get started again. It is mostly thanks to my father, that I am now able to remember so much of what is in the Bible.
I remember as a child, my father would often spontaneously stand up and declare an exhortation, instruction or prophetic word to the people. My dad had the gift of prophesy, and at one time the church even considered placing him in a formal position as church prophet. I was amazed at how he could just stand up and speak the heart of God as if God had taken over his mouth. I wondered how anyone could hear God so clearly. I understand now that what my dad had wasn’t clarity of what God was saying, it was faith. I also know that I have inherited that same gift. When I go back to proofread these blog entries I am just as amazed to see God’s fingerprints all over them. All I do is faithfully type out what is on my heart, and God’s connection with me, is shared with the world.
My father was a servant to God, to his family, and to his church. For most of my life my dad ran his own business, which often required him to stay at work late, and even overnight, to provide for his family. Nevertheless, we always had good food on the table and good clothing. When my dad was a child he had grown up in a poor family, so he made sure that his family never had to experienced the same struggles as he had. He might not have been able to afford to give us kids allowance very often, and we may have had a black and white TV a few years after the neighbors had color, and we might not have taken any trips to Disneyland, but my mom never had to work, and we never went without.
My dad spent many days of volunteer work maintaining the church. He was the one who changed the burned out light bulbs, fixed the broken toilets, and repaired the furnace so we would have heat Sunday morning. The week before he died he was at the church repairing the plumbing. The last project I did with my dad was to help him construct wooden doorstops for when the church auditorium gets too hot. The night before he died my dad was at church attending a special Monday night meeting with a guest speaker. My dad loved the church, and he gave his all for them.
My dad’s death was sudden and unexpected. I was at work when it happened, and had gone out to lunch, when the emergency call came from my mother. My dad was actually in good health and was working at rebuilding the shed on the back of his property. His sudden death impacted a lot of people, and his absence is still felt in all of the areas where he used to serve. You never realize just how significant someone is, until after they are gone. The influence my father had on the lives of others was demonstrated in their gratitude and kindness after he died. The memorial service filled the 400 person auditorium of the church, and we had to cut short the many stories and statements of gratitude for lack of time. My family was offered so many meals during our time of sorrow that we had to turn several of them down. The financial help we received from friends and family was easily twice as much as the cost of his burial, and many volunteers from the church and community came out to finish building the shed my dad was working on when he died.
Before he died, my father was in charge of the men’s prayer group at the church. He kept a log of who attended, and on many weeks there was no one there but him, yet he continued praying faithfully every week. My dad stood as a greeter at the door of the church every Sunday, welcoming friends and visitors. To each new person who came in my dad would give a copy of the book “Larger Window”, which he purchased at his own expense just to give away. He made CD and DVD recordings of messages from the internet about prayer, revival and healing, which he also gave away at the door. He was always talking about healing and revival. He dreamed of starting his own healing ministry with my mother, and had printed cards he would give out, offering to pray for people. He and my mother would even go out regularly to local shopping malls, praying and looking for opportunities to pray for people. My dad believed that the church today can become like the church of Acts. This was my dad, and although his feet were smaller than mine, I am sure I will never be able to fill his shoes, nor will anyone else.
My father’s vision is not dead. I cannot count how many times since his death I have heard a message that sounded just like something he might say. Even the healings and miracles my dad longed to see are starting to manifest now. I still don’t know what God has in store for my church, or for me, but I know that my dad had a significant role and purpose. I thank God for my father’s vision, and for his faith to share it and pass it on to others, and I pray that when my time comes, I will be able to show myself just as worthy and faithful to God, as he was…
With love and honor, to my earthly father, and my Heavenly Father.
James :)
Proverbs 22:6 - Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it. (NIV)
I remember as a child, our church had pre-service prayer in a room back behind the main auditorium. My father would make us kids go back to the prayer room with him and my mom, and we couldn’t play around, we had to kneel down and pray with them. After only a few minutes I was prayed out and anxious to get out of there, but I had to stay, and keep praying. I didn’t understand how people there were able to keep thinking about more things to pray about. I still don’t like to pray for long periods, and my conversations with God now are usually much shorter and far less formal than those childhood prayer times, but thanks to my father I now understand the importance of prayer.
I remember as a child, my father would make us kids spend time reading the Bible. This wasn’t a formal family Bible read (although we did that too), rather we were expected to set aside time out of our own day, and go read the Bible for ourselves. Every so often dad would check up on us, and if we had slacked off and stopped doing it he would make us get started again. It is mostly thanks to my father, that I am now able to remember so much of what is in the Bible.
I remember as a child, my father would often spontaneously stand up and declare an exhortation, instruction or prophetic word to the people. My dad had the gift of prophesy, and at one time the church even considered placing him in a formal position as church prophet. I was amazed at how he could just stand up and speak the heart of God as if God had taken over his mouth. I wondered how anyone could hear God so clearly. I understand now that what my dad had wasn’t clarity of what God was saying, it was faith. I also know that I have inherited that same gift. When I go back to proofread these blog entries I am just as amazed to see God’s fingerprints all over them. All I do is faithfully type out what is on my heart, and God’s connection with me, is shared with the world.
Matthew 24:45-47 - “Who then is the faithful and wise servant, whom the master has put in charge of the servants in his household to give them their food at the proper time? It will be good for that servant whose master finds him doing so when he returns. I tell you the truth, he will put him in charge of all his possessions.” (NIV)
My father was a servant to God, to his family, and to his church. For most of my life my dad ran his own business, which often required him to stay at work late, and even overnight, to provide for his family. Nevertheless, we always had good food on the table and good clothing. When my dad was a child he had grown up in a poor family, so he made sure that his family never had to experienced the same struggles as he had. He might not have been able to afford to give us kids allowance very often, and we may have had a black and white TV a few years after the neighbors had color, and we might not have taken any trips to Disneyland, but my mom never had to work, and we never went without.
My dad spent many days of volunteer work maintaining the church. He was the one who changed the burned out light bulbs, fixed the broken toilets, and repaired the furnace so we would have heat Sunday morning. The week before he died he was at the church repairing the plumbing. The last project I did with my dad was to help him construct wooden doorstops for when the church auditorium gets too hot. The night before he died my dad was at church attending a special Monday night meeting with a guest speaker. My dad loved the church, and he gave his all for them.
My dad’s death was sudden and unexpected. I was at work when it happened, and had gone out to lunch, when the emergency call came from my mother. My dad was actually in good health and was working at rebuilding the shed on the back of his property. His sudden death impacted a lot of people, and his absence is still felt in all of the areas where he used to serve. You never realize just how significant someone is, until after they are gone. The influence my father had on the lives of others was demonstrated in their gratitude and kindness after he died. The memorial service filled the 400 person auditorium of the church, and we had to cut short the many stories and statements of gratitude for lack of time. My family was offered so many meals during our time of sorrow that we had to turn several of them down. The financial help we received from friends and family was easily twice as much as the cost of his burial, and many volunteers from the church and community came out to finish building the shed my dad was working on when he died.
John 12:24 - I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. (NIV)
Before he died, my father was in charge of the men’s prayer group at the church. He kept a log of who attended, and on many weeks there was no one there but him, yet he continued praying faithfully every week. My dad stood as a greeter at the door of the church every Sunday, welcoming friends and visitors. To each new person who came in my dad would give a copy of the book “Larger Window”, which he purchased at his own expense just to give away. He made CD and DVD recordings of messages from the internet about prayer, revival and healing, which he also gave away at the door. He was always talking about healing and revival. He dreamed of starting his own healing ministry with my mother, and had printed cards he would give out, offering to pray for people. He and my mother would even go out regularly to local shopping malls, praying and looking for opportunities to pray for people. My dad believed that the church today can become like the church of Acts. This was my dad, and although his feet were smaller than mine, I am sure I will never be able to fill his shoes, nor will anyone else.
My father’s vision is not dead. I cannot count how many times since his death I have heard a message that sounded just like something he might say. Even the healings and miracles my dad longed to see are starting to manifest now. I still don’t know what God has in store for my church, or for me, but I know that my dad had a significant role and purpose. I thank God for my father’s vision, and for his faith to share it and pass it on to others, and I pray that when my time comes, I will be able to show myself just as worthy and faithful to God, as he was…
With love and honor, to my earthly father, and my Heavenly Father.
Exodus 20:12 - “Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you. (NIV)
James :)
posted by AskAboutGod | Saturday, October 16, 2010
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