Friday, March 2, 2018

My Billy Graham memory

As I sit to write this blog I have the memorial service of Billy Graham playing in the background.
I have so many questions for the Lord but I know that I will get all my answers met as I continue to walk my life out faithfully with Him.
I know this because I have received answers about my life that I couldn't have gotten any other way than by following Him to receive them.

Every time that I was obedient to surrender my ways to His way I received my reward of revelation and each revelation brought healing to that specific area of my life.
That healing was also extended out to my children to help break generational chains of despair.
One link broken from bondage and one step closer to freedom.

As I hear the message and memories of Billy Graham I can't help but remember the first time that I heard his voice.

What was it about this man and his message that DIDN'T capture my dad?

As a young girl, one of my many memories of my dad was always of him watching television and eating his meals in the living room, on the couch, across from the television.
As a family we've never had meals together.

As I'd pass through the living room, I would sometimes stop long enough to see what he was watching. One day I briefly passed by and heard a voice that was, well... different. There was something about that man's voice that stopped me to look. 
When I stopped to look at the television I saw large crowds of people and a man standing on a pulpit shouting something about God.
My dad was a professing atheist and very critical of clergy. To see him watch anyone talk about God without getting mad, was really weird. Movies that talked about God was sorta okay but preachers? Not okay.
When I looked over to my dad, he kinda had a quizzical look on his face. But he wasn't mad.
It was the first and the last time I ever saw this man growing up.

Almost 12 years later, when I was twenty-two, I heard that voice again and recognized the man on television. My boyfriend (whose now my husband) told me his name and shared who he was. His name was Billy Graham and he was a preacher for Jesus.

And that is my first and only childhood "Billy Graham memory". 

  • Did my dad have a change after that day? Not that I saw.
  • Did my dad proclaim Jesus as savior after that day? No.
  • Why? I don't know but I have an idea of why... 



Maybe the message and memory of this man wasn't for my dad but for ME. An 11 year-old girl who seriously needed Jesus.
 In my next blog I will share the first of three conversations that I had with my dad before he died.

By the grace of God, our first conversation after eighteen years of not speaking was about the deity of Jesus Christ and his concern for my choice to be a Christian.


“Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord … that they may rest from their labors, and their works follow them.” —Revelation 14:13, NKJV



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