Here I sit at my dad's desk, five thousand kilometres from home, on the day that we will fly from Bellingham, Washington, to Honolulu, Hawaii.
On the wall to my left is a framed collage with pictures of the seven churches that he served. I remember them all, except for the first one in which I was baptized. Also to my left is the only remaining bookcase devoted to theological works. It contains the entire set of brief Dutch Bible commentaries known as "De Korte Verklaring," Facing me is a photograph of my parents holding each other and smiling at me.
At this desk, my dad still grades the tests written by prisoners that are sent to him by Crossroad Bible Institute. This prison ministry offers Bible courses to prisoners, and dad's eight students challenge him with some tough theological questions. During his recent near fatal bout with pneumonia, his work was put on hold for two months. But he's back at it, feeling better and feeling good about being useful in God's kingdom at age 89.
We told him about Stand Up Sunday at Hope Fellowship Church, trying to convey the indescribable excitement of the testimonies, the infant and adult baptisms, the music and the visuals. "What makes it so special?" he asked. "The stories of God's leading in their lives," I answered. "And the wonderful diversity that God is allowing our church to experience."
His prison ministry is equally diverse. The prisoners who take the bible courses offered by CBI represent many cultures and backgrounds. He loves that kind of variety in the body of Christ as much as we do.
Two days ago, we visited my mom's grave on the anniversary of her death. I watched my dad as he looked down at the marker on which both of my parents' names are inscribed. The only missing information is the date of my dad's passing. We felt no need to stay long. After all, Mom was long gone to a much better place than this lovely cemetery in Surrey, B.C..
On his return to his apartment in Elim Village, he walked purposefully to his mail box. There was mail, but, disappointingly, not the mail that gives him the opportunity to share his resurrection faith with his incarcerated students.
But there's always tomorrow and the mailman's next delivery.
- Pastor Peter
On the wall to my left is a framed collage with pictures of the seven churches that he served. I remember them all, except for the first one in which I was baptized. Also to my left is the only remaining bookcase devoted to theological works. It contains the entire set of brief Dutch Bible commentaries known as "De Korte Verklaring," Facing me is a photograph of my parents holding each other and smiling at me.
At this desk, my dad still grades the tests written by prisoners that are sent to him by Crossroad Bible Institute. This prison ministry offers Bible courses to prisoners, and dad's eight students challenge him with some tough theological questions. During his recent near fatal bout with pneumonia, his work was put on hold for two months. But he's back at it, feeling better and feeling good about being useful in God's kingdom at age 89.
We told him about Stand Up Sunday at Hope Fellowship Church, trying to convey the indescribable excitement of the testimonies, the infant and adult baptisms, the music and the visuals. "What makes it so special?" he asked. "The stories of God's leading in their lives," I answered. "And the wonderful diversity that God is allowing our church to experience."
His prison ministry is equally diverse. The prisoners who take the bible courses offered by CBI represent many cultures and backgrounds. He loves that kind of variety in the body of Christ as much as we do.
Two days ago, we visited my mom's grave on the anniversary of her death. I watched my dad as he looked down at the marker on which both of my parents' names are inscribed. The only missing information is the date of my dad's passing. We felt no need to stay long. After all, Mom was long gone to a much better place than this lovely cemetery in Surrey, B.C..
On his return to his apartment in Elim Village, he walked purposefully to his mail box. There was mail, but, disappointingly, not the mail that gives him the opportunity to share his resurrection faith with his incarcerated students.
But there's always tomorrow and the mailman's next delivery.
- Pastor Peter
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