A Father's Impact . . .

At a coffee shop in Canada, I picked up a copy of the Toronto Star, which was there for customers to read while drinking their coffee. It was full of reports on the G-20 and G-8 conferences being held in Ontario. An article on an inside page caught my eye. The lead line spoke of "different dads" and "father issues."

It said most of the world leaders are themselves fathers and a couple of them have fathered twenty or more children! But coming from all walks of life, the fathers of all these leaders have affected (for good or for ill,) the lives of these who are now shaping our world.

While the Canadian Prime Minister was very close to his dad, others grew up without their father’s influence. For instance, Barack Obama, Sr. herded goats in Kenya during his youth. Though educated in Harvard as an economist, he returned to Kenya after his divorce from President Obama’s mother. His son saw him only one more time before he died in an auto accident in 1982. In his book, "Dreams From My Father," Mr. Obama speaks of how hard it was to grow up without his father; a man deemed highly intelligent yet profoundly flawed. He said, "My father was missing. Nothing my mother or grandparents told me could obviate than single, unassailable fact."

The first French President in modern times whose parents are living, Nicholas Sarkozy’s father, Pel, a Hungarian immigrant, (who says he loves women and high living,) came to France penniless. He started his own advertising agency, then left Nicholas’ mother. In succeeding years he’s had three more wives, more children and numerous affairs. From age 4, Nicholas never saw his father again until after he became President.

The father of South Africa’s President, Jacob Zuma, was a policeman who died at the end of World War II, while Jacob was just a child. He soon had to go to work to help his mother and family eke out a living, which prevented him from receiving a formal education.

The fathers of today's world leaders have held many occupations; some were highly esteemed and some would be considered menial. One was a Lutheran pastor, another a bank employee. Others include a cattle ranch hand, a dairy farmer, a glass manufacturing plant executive, a stock broker, a professor, a bus driver, and an accountant.
[Source: "Who’s Their Daddy?" Pg. IN-3, Toronto Star; Sunday, June 20, 2010.]

So, although some had good relationships with their fathers, others came to the present through negatives and deficiency. Some consider they’ve achieved earthly recognition despite circumstances and backgrounds. Others see limitations, (thrust upon them by the lack of a father’s guidance and/or by the difficulties they endured,) affecting their ability to lead effectively. While overcoming obstacles is always a possibility, it is also a challenge. For many, it is the crayon that colors everything else in life.

Over the years, I’ve heard Bro. Grisham teach that the best example a father can set before his children is to love God, love his wife, and love his children. The fathers I’ve observed who have modeled this wise advice are without exception, honorable men worthy of godly emulation. Children raised in such a setting have advantages beyond monetary measure. The example godly fathers set provides insight and perspective capable of holding their children steady throughout life’s ebb and flow.

Moses commanded, "Teach your children diligently; when you sit at home, when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up." (Deuteronomy 6:7 niv) Fathers who failed in this task handed their children over to idolatry and sure and certain judgment. Subsequent generations did not even know God. As judgment fell, the prophet spoke of the proverb, "The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge." (Ezekiel 18:2) But this was not God’s plan. He wanted reconciliation and restoration. "Behold, I will sent you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord: And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers, lest I come and smite the earth with a curse." (Malachi 4:5-6)

In the New Testament, the Apostle Paul balances the ledger, "And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath; but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord." (Ephesians 6:4. See also Colossians 3:21.)

Fathers, you have an unction from the Holy One. Your children are your deposit into the future, your bid in making an impact on the world to come. The only contribution that will truly last is the one that affects and enhances eternity. Everything else is wood, hay and stubble.

~ mjkinnee
July 2010

Mother's Day Blessings

Just Thinking About Ice

It's winter in Michigan. The snow is falling, temperatures are well below freezing and there's an ice dam forming on the eaves of my roof. If it stays cold the ice dam will grow. When the sun comes out, it's insidious icy fingers will wedge their way under the shingles and as it re-freezes it will wreak havoc on what's underneath. The thing is - ice is so neat when you're skating on it or watching it form patterns on your windows, but it's tricky if you're walking on it or trying to drive over it. I've watched folks slip and fall - they were briefly in the most ludicrous positions before landing. Some got up, looked around to see who was watching, dusted themselves off and continued on their way. Others couldn't get up without help; I know...

One February, I was visiting with my brother and sister-in-law. An ice storm outside had turned their sidewalk into a sheet of wet glass. Taking a deep breath, I braced myself by holding on to the porch pillar and stepped down. How futile! In a flash, I hit the porch, Bang! - and continued sliding... Thump! Off the porch and onto the slippery, wet and oh so cold cement. I couldn't get up. Icy rain soaked my hatless head, coat and clothes. My brother tried to help but couldn't haul on me and keep his footing too. Then my quick-thinking sister-in-law turned, ran into the house and brought out a beautiful Turkish rug, tossing it onto the icy cement. By standing on it, my brother was able to help me to my feet and I gingerly made my way home. Within a couple of days, black and blue was the color of an unbelieveable portion of my back and I was stiff for days!

Now in the summer, ice is a welcome addition to water, tea or lemonade. You want it in the cooler when you're on a picnic. You'll freeze your fruit drink to help keep the food in your lunch box cold - and a bucket full of ice graces most every party.

Got to thinking on these things... Ice is the common denominator, yes, yet how welcome it is depends on what's going on around the ice. Inside a heated house, with a good book, a cup of hot chocolate and a glowing fireplace; the ice outside is pretty to look at but not much of a threat. However, when folks are outside, they hurry. The wind chill, temperature and what's happening with the weather (ice storm, freezing rain, sleet, or snow,) focuses their attention on getting indoors. Here's the remarkable part - the same ice that terrifies us in the winter is a welcome addition to summer fun. Speaks volumes about environment and attitude doesn't it?

Job said, "...as the stream of brook they pass away; which are blackish by reason of the ice, wherein the snow is hid. What time they wax warm, they vanish: when it is hot, they are consumed out of their place. The paths of their way are turned aside; they go to nothing, and perish." (Job 6:15-17) "Out of whose womb came the ice? And the hoary frost of heaven, who hath gendered it? The waters are hid as a stone, and the face of the deep is frozen." (Job 38:29-30)

The psalmist said, "He giveth snow like wool: He scattereth the hoarfrost like ashes. He casteth forth His ice like morsels: who can stand before His cold? He sendeth out His Word, and melteth them: He causeth His wind to blow, the waters flow." (Psalm 147:16-18)

Ice may be an adversary or a friend - it depends on where you are and what you're doing when you encounter it.

The Prodigal's Mother

Of the prodigal’s tale, we all are aware,
Stubborn, he wanted to manage his share;
So he took it and headed off into the sun,
Determined to have his share of fun.

We hear how he partied away all he had,
Rumors were flowing and all were bad;
The father kept watch as the months wore on,
Only love could rescue his wayward son.

We hear of his downfall, the ruins of sin,
We hear of the pigpen he found himself in;
We hear of the change that began in his heart,
How he thought of home and the servant’s part.

We hear of his journey and father’s delight
We hear sounds of joy as they ring in the night;
Brother’s envy and spite make our spirits groan,
But through it all – we’re glad he’s home.

But what of his mother? We never do hear,
Yet surely her presence was always near;
Her baby was lost – her precious son,
She must have wept and prayed, undone.

In dark, night hours, while others slept,
A tear-stained vigil his mother kept;
She groaned and travailed more deep than at birth,
For the wayward one’s soul had yet greater worth.

She waited and hoped in the promise of God,
Reminding, abiding, her faith walked dry-shod;
Through oceans of tears, through doubts and fear,
Come what may - though it took many a year.

And then, when the promise finally did arrive,
Imagine the sparkle of joy in her eye;
Hustling, bustling in a glorious dither,
The servants all rushing hither and thither.

Mama, in high gear, was doing her best,
Preparing a fabulous celebration fest;
All her boy’s favorite cookies and cake,
Were piled high and waiting for more to bake.

But right in the midst of the joyful preparation,
Mama steals off for a quiet conversation –
With the One who had shared her burden and grief,
“He’s home now, Lord, Oh, what blessed relief!”

By Marjorie Kinnee

Note: I took the liberty of adding a possibility to this age-old story in honor of Mothers Day and in tribute to mothers of wayward children. They carry a special burden, full of sorrow, travail and pleading intercession. But they partner with the One whose heart is touched and is able to work, even in the darkest of situations. What He's done for others - He'll do for you! "Now unto Him who is able to do exceeding, abundantly above all we can ask or think...", be all the glory and honor and power and dominion. In Jesus' Name!

The Blessings of the Lord!

"The blessings of the Lord

Are new every day;

He addeth no sorrow,

Only takes it a-way!"

I'm in Jacksonville, Florida over the Memorial Day holiday...

Visiting with my grandchildren is always a joy. Right now, there are two little girls hiding under blankets as I type. They're playing turtle. One tells me turtles have hard shells and the other says that the shell is like a house they carry around. They peak out from under their blankets and say "Hello!" every so often and crawl down the hall and back discussing turtledom in the most fanciful of ways. Their sweet little voices fade as they head into their room to play awhile.

When they weary of that, the blankets become royal robes and the princesses settle in for tea. Lillie and Skittles (the cats) get drawn into the play - but they do not linger long. It seems cats don't want to play royalty (maybe to a cat's mind, they're already royal enough).

One is away at school, the rest are on the road coming from Virginia and will be here later today; and in the midst of the preparations, I'm taking time to reflect on the blessings of grandchildren who love Jesus, who quote and sing Bible verses, and who make my heart sing with thanksgiving at the goodness and mercy of the Lord.

"The mercies of the Lord

are new every day;

He addeth no sorrow,

Only takes it a-way!"

A Prayer for My Family . . .
(And Your Family Too!)


Dear Jesus,

Please help, strengthen and protect our little ones!
We live in an evil, wicked and perverse generation
Which desires to ensnare men, women, boys and girls.
No one is exempt.
This world works hand in hand with the enemy of our souls
To try to thwart Your plan and purpose for our lives.

Help us to to know the truth of the verse...
"Greater is He that is in me,
Than he that is in the world."
Help us to seek after You
With all our heart, soul, mind and strength.
Fill us with Your power from on high.

Thank You for Your Holy Spirit,
Which gives us the power to live a victorious life
In this present world.

Guide our footsteps, make us to walk in Your ways.
Keep our minds and hearts pure and vigilant.
Help us to study and know and love Your Word,
To believe and live by its precious promises.
Help us to teach it faithfully to our little ones;
To take delight in it and it's teachings,
And to hide it in each and every heart,
That we might not sin against Thee.

In Jesus' Name,
Amen

Thoughts on Aging...

A curious thing... Perhaps you've already noticed it. Part of the aging process is wear and tear, accompanied by weariness and teariness. (Could there be a connection?) We mourn over the loss of youthful strength and energy. We ache and creak in the strangest places. Memories of long ago events come back in great detail. We not only remember our own feelings, but age and experience (hopefully,) have taught us to better understand what must have been the feelings of others. Our days and nights are spent with a new companion; his name? (Arthur Itis). Gray hair grows whiter and wrinkles appear. They make me wonder, where did the years go? Should my oldest child live her "allotted" years, (70 per the Bible,) she reached the half-way point (35) this year. My younger daughter is but one year behind. Wow! My oldest grandson will be twelve this summer!

Ah! and that brings me to one of the greatest blessings of growing older - grandparenting. Another generation... a bid into the future... a chance to pour a little something (perhaps hope and the strong belief in what can be,) into fresh minds and hearts. A chance to watch your children teach their children, realizing that much of what they're doing was learned at your knee. Sometimes that realization is rueful, sometimes it's overwhelming, and sometimes it humbles you to know how grateful you need to be to those who taught you. One thing is certain - it's a long line; it did not begin with me and it will not end with me.

The waning years have a purpose. I've had enough experience to know they too will fly by. This makes them all the more precious. While I'm here and while I have the strength, I have a charge to keep. It is to encourage those who are raising the next generation and bless their little ones with the chance to grow and develop their faith. It must be grounded in the Word of God. That's what kept our grandparents and our parents too. It's what gave us a plumbline by which to measure all our life experiences. It's able to keep our children on course, and it is the one sure thing we can give our grandchildren. It will carry them through all that the future holds and will still be true and sure when the time comes for them to teach their children and grandchildren - long after we're gone.

So as age does it's thing, as the hair grays and thins, as the bones creak and the strength grows weaker - it's a comfort to know that my faith rests on and in the One who is eternal. He changes not. His Word is sure and His promises are faithful.

Many years ago, at a time when life was fraught with distress and upheval, two significant things happened... First, He gave me warning of the impending changes in a series of three dreams. I told them to my mother over the phone. She perceived their meaning and import and helped me understand them. They prepared me and helped me know He was there, ever present. During this time He also brought a promise from His Word to my attention. "And all thy children shall be taught of the Lord, and great shall be the peace of thy children." (Isaiah 54:13) I held onto that promise in all that followed. (I still cling to it.)

The second was born out of the first. The knowledge of His abiding presence and the way He had led me thus far brought a profound peace when the storm struck. It hurled itself into our lives with all its fury. Our days were filled with chaos. Through it all, prayer came easy, but it was not the frantic praying of a terrified soul. His presence was palpable. It was both comforting and upbuilding. Strength that was not my own was lent to me. Even strangers remarked on the peace surrounding me.

Right in the middle of that storm-tossed time, my next door neighbor came over, actually knocked on my door, to ask if I could help her find the peace she saw in me. Her heart was hungry and she gladly came to know the Lord, her husband and children soon followed.

Life has taught me that you cannot lose when your trust is in Jesus. He is abundantly able; to deliver, to save, to heal, to restore, to keep, and to give perfect peace in every situation. He is also able to complete all that He has begun in you - to the day of His appearing.

Maranatha!

I Remember Mama . . .

I am not able to come to this time of year without thinking of my mother. Transplanted by marriage to my father (on January 15, 1944) from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan to the North Detroit suburbs, mama was the quintessential Christian lady. She loved Bible truth and lived it all her days. Mama always knew what was the right thing. Her advice was wise and seasoned with experiences that had taught her how to be steady and dependable.

Canadian prairie winters, with frigid cold, biting wind and all the bundling up necessary in temperatures way below zero could not have been easy. But mama's memories of her childhood were full of her older brother and sisters. Grandpa was an engineer on the Canadian National Railroad (in the days of steam engines,) and was away from home often as he took trains full of people and freight from one side of the country to the other. Mama's stories included their Chinese neighbor, Mrs. Kwong, who had many children, the boys at school who teased her and her girlhood chums. As a result of the lack of iodine in her diet, mama developed a goiter which required surgery. In those days, the anesthesia was ether. The surgery attendant only pulled the surgical cap over her skull, leaving most of mama's beautiful, long hair exposed. The ether turned the exposed hair white and brittle, so it had to be cut. Whenever she told the story, mama mourned over the loss but she would rejoice when she got to the part where it all grew back thicker and longer than before.

It was about this same time that she first met Charles C. Kirby, his wife, Nola, and their daughters, Autumn and Vaviel. They were accompanied by his brother and wife, (U. L. and Floy Kirby) whom mama called, "Uncle Dutch and Aunt Floy." In later years, Bro. Kirby would say that the entire Canadian sojourn was an attempt to run from the call of God. Autumn's death was the catalyst that sent both Kirby brothers back to the States. Bro. & Sis. Kirby and Vaviel settled in the Royal Oak area. Their son, "Chassie," was born soon afterwards. Uncle Dutch and Aunt Floy settled in Paragould, Arkansas. (Mama corresponded with Aunt Floy, until Floy's death in the 70's.) In 1942, Bro. Kirby invited mama to come and visit in Royal Oak. While she was there, he sent Sis. Kirby and mama to visit Uncle Dutch and Aunt Floy in Paragould - and wrote my dad, who was serving in the army air corps in Malden, Missouri, suggesting that he make his way to Arkansas to meet the young lady who was traveling with Sis. Kirby. The rest, as they say, is history. Mama and daddy corresponded for a time - became engaged - and were married on January 15, 1944. Mama went with him to Missouri for a time. But once daddy received his overseas assignment, she returned to Royal Oak, while he served in Hawaii, Guam and Okinawa until 1945, when he was honorably discharged at the end of World War II.

But I've gotten ahead of myself - let's go back to Saskatoon . . .

One summer, while still in her early teens, mama got permission (from her pastor and the local school board,) to hold "protracted meetings" out in a country schoolhouse. When the summer was over, a number of candidates were ready for baptism.

During her high school years, mama played the piano for extended revival meetings for the home church in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan – school during the day, revival at night, altar work until there were no more seekers, home to bed and back to school the next morning – this went on for several weeks. Mama rejoiced in how the Lord blessed and anointed souls, the ministry, the services, her playing and her school work; in fact, He blessed everything throughout the revival - she lacked nothing, not even sleep, because even her rest was refreshing!

In her early twenties, mama served as a lady evangelist in Ontario. During World War II, many of the Canadian pastors were drafted into military service. This left their wives to care for the churches. Rev. Frank Small of Winnipeg, Manitoba saw a need and issued “Christian Worker’s Licenses” to a number of young women who traveled throughout Canada, preaching the gospel, holding children’s revivals and generally making themselves useful wherever and whenever they could. Mama was one of these young ladies. She was sent to Eastern Ontario. Her stories and adventures were thrilling – peppered with names from Canadian Pentecostal history; Frank Small, R. E. S. Toms, Ernie Baxter, Howard Goss, Andrew and Jonathan Urshan, Charles C. and U. L. Kirby, Stan Bean, Leonard Parent, Bro. Pair, Bro. Rabie and Bro. Rudd. (I do not know the first names of these last three men, though they were influential in mama's ministry.) In the mid-50's, Bro. Rudd came to Michigan for a conference. Mama and daddy invited he and his family into our home. She much enjoyed their visit and catching up on old acquaintances.

One of the pictures in mama’s photo album shows a baptismal service during that time. Surrounded by young people, she’s sitting on some rocks at the site of a broken dam. There are a number of pictures of other evangelists and Canadian Pentecostals of yesteryear. Newspaper clippings with her picture announcing evangelistic meetings are included and she mentioned other cities and towns like Cobaconk, Brockville, Kingston, Peterborough and Belleville. There was even an invitation to conduct services at an Indian reservation. Her face joyful in the remembering, she told us about attending camp meetings at Outlet Camp in Lansdowne. (In 1956 or 57, during a family vacation, she took us to see the Outlet Camp Ground – it was beautiful!)

After marrying daddy, she became a mama in the best sense of the word. She taught us to love the house of God and to make it our chief joy. She loved the ministry of the Word and kept notes and tapes of messages she heard by her own pastor and others. Even in her declining years, mama’s devotions included reading through the Bible at least once each year. The margins of her Bibles are always peppered with remarks and notes and references to additional Scriptures she studied relative to the one at hand. We often found her sitting in her favorite chair with her glasses perched on her nose – reading, studying and taking notes.

Once when my girls came into the house, she looked up and sighed, “Oh! Am I glad to see you! Come help me find my glasses! I can’t find them anywhere!”

The girls started giggling. Between chortles, they wheezed out, “Up there, Grandma!”

“Where?” She was sure they were not taking her request seriously. “Stop playing around!" she scolded, "I need them – there’s something I want to check out.”

Their laughter grew. Between gasps, with tears coming, they pointed to the top of her head. “Right there, Grandma.”

Mama reached up, and there, perched atop her head, were her reading glasses. She’d shoved them up there at some point and forgotten where they were. A red face and a sheepish grin soon merged into giggles and when I came in from the car, the three of them were in gales and had to explain it to me so I could join in.

In this, the week of Mother's Day, 2006, I remember Mama . . . with love.