In My Father’s Footsteps

Part One

His back glistened with sweat; his muscles tightened like knots against his frail thin body; and his breathing panted as he dug his hoe into the dry hard ground.

“I can do it, I can do it; by God’s grace I know I can do it.”

He dipped his jagged tin can into a bucket of water, cupped it to his mouth and gulped the cool water down his parched dry throat.

“I’m getting old, I’m sick; nobody is helping me. But by God’s grace I know I can do it.”

Old Man Doe was his name and he had a passion, a passion for God’s Glory. God had enabled him to start fifteen Baptist churches in his home area of Lower Nimba County. In an animistic society, life had not been easy for Old Man Doe when he chose to follow the Lord Jesus Christ. Often he had labored alone, others refusing to help. Now he was building a conference center for those fifteen churches to meet as an Association, a place where they could worship and encourage and train together.

Dig by dig, brick by brick, prayer by prayer the Center was going up. And then the War came, the Liberian Civil War, fifteen long years of it. Old Man Doe’s weakened frail body gave way to pneumonia and he died from lack of medical help.

But God was not finished yet; the Ministry would go on. Before being separated from his family by the Civil War, Old Man Doe passed “his mantle” on to his son Daniel. Daniel promised to continue his father’s dream of encouraging the growing churches which his father had begun. Here is Daniel’s story.

I went away to college and forgot about my father’s ambitions. When my popularity as a soccer player increased, my interest in the things of God decreased. I remember distinctly one particular soccer competition. I was all pumped up, anxiously awaiting the start, itching to run out onto the field.

Suddenly my eyes were struck with total blindness and everything went black. I groped around me in frustration; angrily I kicked the ground beneath me. My mind screamed with disbelief; I would not be participating in this soccer game, and maybe no more ever. My whole world crumbled at my feet and I was devastated.

That night as I lay in bed blind, tossing and turning aimlessly, I had a vision. I saw passing by my bed a man in white, beckoning me. Then I heard him ask, “Have you forgotten?” The following night I saw and heard the same, “Have you forgotten?”

I was disturbed. Two nights without sight; two nights the same vision! What was happening to me?

Then came the third night. I was still blind. Again the man in white appeared. But this time he commanded sternly, “Don’t forget!”

Perspiration beaded my forehead; my pulse was running wild and my heart was beating rapidly. “Who was talking to me and what had I forgotten?” Then I remembered! I had forgotten the promise that I made to my father to carry on the Ministry.

In shame and brokenness, I repented to God for pushing Him aside and running my own life. As if reassuring me of His forgiveness, God reached down and healed my eyes. My vision was restored. In gratefulness I committed myself to follow the Lord Jesus Christ all the rest of my life.

I returned to my father who confirmed the meaning of my dream. God wanted me to follow in my Father’s Footsteps. I apologized to my dad for ignoring my promise to him. Lovingly he embraced me; together father and son wept tears of joy. We were united in spirit and in purpose.

“Welcome home, son; don’t forget the Ministry.”

Truly I know now that I am following in my Father’s Footsteps, not only my earthly father but also my Heavenly Father!

1 comment December 10th, 2008