the young people from adapting to worldly ways. Finally, everything came to a head and I was excommunicated from my parents’ church. After that, I started attending a local Mennonite church where the pastor was someone I knew and respected.
On the week of Nov 17, 1971, Mom and Dad, Eli and Anna Mast, and Yost Millers went to Grove City, Minnesota, for a minister ordination service. My dad preached on Saturday evening on Isaiah 52:7.
How beautiful on the mountains
are the feet of those who bring good news,
who proclaim peace,
who bring good tidings,
who proclaim salvation,
who say to Zion,
“Your God reigns!”
This would be my dad’s last message here on this earth. That night at the home of Alvin Helmuth, Dad suffered a severe stroke. He passed away early Monday morning, November 22, 1971, at University Hospital in Minneapolis, Minnesota. I was twenty-two years old.
As I look back on Dad’s life, it’s his faith in God his Creator and Jesus Christ his Savior that I remember most. After all these years, I still miss him because of what that faith and love has come to mean to me in my own life.
I remember we children sometimes talked about which one of us Dad liked most. There were some heated arguments about which child was the favored one. Usually I kept silent during these discussions, since I knew I was a disappointment to my dad. One day Dad was so disgusted with me that he told me he didn’t think I would ever amount to anything.
We had left the Amish church when I was ten years old and were attending Bethel Fellowship, an Amish-Mennonite church that permitted cars, electricity, and phones. My dad was a minister at this church.
One year, a number of people in the congregation put big, blue gospel signs about four feet square on their barns or shops. Dad put one of those signs on the front of our chicken house. Its big letters read, “PREPARE TO MEET THY GOD.” Everyone saw it when they drove into our driveway.
I was around fourteen at the time, and I was embarrassed by that sign. To me, it was something that just didn’t fit in and made us stand out in the community. One day when Dad was not at home, I tore down the sign. You can imagine the disappointment on my dad’s face when he found out I was the guilty person.
There was a time I felt in my heart that Dad didn’t really love me, yet his love followed me throughout life and reached me even after his death. I would discover that only after much heartache and walking very close to the precipice of hell.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
