All I remember is that we always went to church. I suppose I was taken there as a baby. Since the church we attended was only 2-5 blocks away when I was an infant, it was handy. I’m sure that’s when I learned to sleep in church.
I consider my father to have been a Godly man. He prayed out loud in the kitchen each morning before going to work. He prayed at church. He prayed at family devotions. In all cases he could get rather loud. He woke me up a few times at home and at church
He read his Bible through each year for many years. I was always amazed at that. I know he knew his Bible very well, but having only an eighth grade education, he was never confident with what he knew. He tended to defer to me after I entered the ministry, even when thinking I was theologically off at times. I admit I was a little more liberal than he. As dad prayed out loud he would often slip into praying in tongues and it was loud. I remember thinking to myself some mornings that I should tell him there was no one around to interpret. I never did. Even when I left the Pentecostal church, I never turned my back on the gift of speaking in tongues. My dad’s gift was genuine. He was an uncomplicated man and I don’t believe he could have ever faked his gift. When he was praying in the morning he was not performing or trying to impress any one. His focus was on God. I don’t even know if he was aware of how loud he got. What I did do as an adult was reject the belief that tongues was the only evidence of receiving the Holy Spirit, but I have always held that it was a gift given by God.
Dad believed family devotions were essential for the development of Godly children, but he had no concept of the needs of children. After supper he would gather the family in the living room where he would read a section of scripture. We then got on our knees while he prayed around the world in 80 days for everyone he ever met — I think. I was fine with family prayers during the cold indoor months. Both my brother and I would often fall asleep on our knees while he was praying. Family devotions never really involved the family. It was dad’s thing. He had never met a missionary he didn’t pray for.
I had a much more difficult time with family devotions during the warmer months when our door was open and I could hear the outside noises. I wanted to be with my friends. We lived directly across the street from my grade school. We would be on our knees praying (pardon me, dad was praying) and we could hear the kids outside. At times they would call to find out when I was coming out again. I always wondered the same thing. We never left until he was done praying.
I wish I had understood the needs of children when I was one. Dad was not unreasonable and if he was told of a better way, I have little doubt that he would have complied. What he knew and believed was important was that he should expose his children to both the Scripture and prayer. While I was not a happy camper over this procedure as a child, I was impressed with my father’s love of God. I have always wanted to become the Godly man I saw him to be. Of course there were things I wanted to do differently, but he certainly loved God and lived the best he knew how at his point in history.
No comments:
Post a Comment