I spent last week with the The Most Wonderful Father in the world.
That’s him. John McKay. My dad. In spite of the super cute golf pose, he readily admits to being a not-so-hot golfer. But he thoroughly enjoys practicing his putting and chipping skills in his back yard and playing regularly with a great group of guys from his high school days. (Sweet story: they re-connected at their 50th high school reunion, and they’ve been getting together to play golf, encourage one another, and reminisce about the old days ever since.)
Two years ago, Dad had emergency brain surgery to remove a massive blood clot. The surgery was successful, but his speech and motor skills were greatly weakened. His sweet spirit and faith in God, however, was as strong as ever. Throughout weeks and weeks of hospitalization and months and months of rehab, he shared the joy and love of Jesus with every nurse, doctor, therapist, and visitor who came into his room.
As you can see in the picture above, Dad has experienced an amazing recovery. And while I was with him last week, I noticed that he has adopted a new daily routine.
Every morning, Dad wakes up early and walks 2-3 miles (!) around his neighborhood. Then he returns home and has breakfast with those who did not get up early and did not walk 2-3 miles with him — i.e., my Mom and me last week.
Breakfast table time is my favorite time with Dad. And one morning last week, there were three of us there: Dad, his worn, wrinkled, red-leather Bible, and me.
What captivated me most that morning were the notes Dad had written in the front and back pages of his Bible. There were sermon notes and quotes from great preachers, columns of crusade and revival dates where he’d led the music and sung the stars down, lists of the names of those he had led to Christ, and so much more.
But then, scotch-taped securely to a page, I discovered this . . .
Well, not exactly that. That’s the printed copy Dad made for me. You can see the faint outline of his Bible and the blurry, type-written words of a poem by pastor/author Rev. Ralph Cushman. And this is the graphic of that poem that I made for you . . .
(Click here for the printable…and tape it inside your own Bible.)
With tears in his eyes at the breakfast table last week, Dad told me, “Laurie, Jesus and I are so close. We walk and talk together every morning. I’m so full.”
Meeting Jesus in the morning. That’s the secret of my Dad’s unquenchable joy through all of the challenges of his 83-year-old life.
I returned home to Houston this week. The daily challenges of life were waiting for me. But I am so grateful to say that I returned home with fresh faith for every challenge.
It is no secret.
It is so simple.
Jesus is our joy.
So, let’s meet Him in the mornings, and live in the fullness of His joy.
“These things I have spoken to you so that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be made full.” John 15:11
Your sister,
P. S. A few weeks ago, one of my brothers created a YouTube channel of my Dad’s music from the years he served alongside James Robison (evangelist). The videos are excerpted from a weekly television program they did together. Thought I’d share one with you. Enjoy!