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How does a person document an entire lifetime on a piece of paper?
I attempted it once in a class when I was given an assignment to write my autobiography. The challenge arose when I came to the perplexing reality that every day is a page, every event is a chapter and every unfinished lifetime is a book yet to be written. The end result was truly an eye-opener. I penned, “It’s a Wonderful Life and Someone had to Live It.”
My life, I revealed, was always surrounded by ministry. I have always loved being a PK and I have always loved being a part of my family.
A Passion for Serving God
My parents filled my life with love, adventure and a passion for serving God. Through their witness, my brother Ron and I have learned valuable lessons about sharing our faith with others. The memories we hold dear are a collage of baptisms, appeals and changed lives as a result of what was not just dad’s ministry, but our ministry. When I reflect on all the places we have lived, I am thankful for the people I have met and the places I have been.
Can you imagine working in the streets of New York City, walking down alleys where some people would not go? But we went. I was never afraid of the city, because I knew we were doing what God had called us to do.
I’ll never forget the interesting people who would attend our evangelistic meetings. One night a woman walked into the hall dressed in white. She whispered to Mom, “I’m the mother of God.” A man who followed her in looked like Santa Claus. Sure enough, he signed his registration card, “Kris Kringle.”
Sometimes listening to God’s call took us into places we normally would never go. Like the shooting galleries where druggies went for a fix. We even brought addicts home and helped them go through “cold turkey,” or detox, from their addiction. I watched Dad and Mom nurse each one, clean up their vomit and comfort them during the cold chills and hot flashes of withdrawal.
My parents always had hands of love. On the streets of New York City we met every kind of person—prostitutes, drug addicts, Broadway stars, millionaires and the homeless—who exposed us to sorrow and loss through their windowpanes of life.
Family Ministry Team
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That was our world, our place of labor, our place of ministry. And my brother and I were a part of it. Here, Dad and Mom always made us feel we were a vital part of the ministry team. These moments were moments that have helped to make me the person I have become. A person who tries to see the world through the eyes of Jesus.
One of these defining moments took place in Brooklyn when I was only seven years old. Dad was holding meetings in Viking Hall. It was there that I heard the call of the Holy Spirit to ministry, knowing in my heart that someday I would be doing the work my father was doing. Two years later we returned for meetings in Viking Hall, and there my father baptized me. In the city where my dad was born, I was born again.
Today, I thank God for parents who included us in the call of ministry. It has enriched my life so much that words cannot express the love I have for them. My parents are my mentors, my heros and the ones I can always count on to be there. Eternally, I will be grateful to them for instilling in me the desire to live passionately for Christ and to passionately share Him with those whose paths I cross.